


Stormseeker: Forging the Future

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga: Alternate Timelines [5]
Category: Geneforge
Genre: Adventure, Bisexual Male Character, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Humor, M/M, NaNoWriMo, POV First Person, Present Tense, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-22
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen Chelseer, the dimension traveler who doesn't stay dead, visits Terrestia. He winds up stranded on Sucia Island, and sets out to discover the secrets left behind there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prison of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for NaNoWriMo 2011, more or less. Didn't reach 50k words, but considering I didn't even start until well into the month and I did actually finish the story, I don't really care.

"Send me to Terrestia. These 'Shapers' sound intriguing."

I make my decision, selecting from the myriad of options. Nodye Coast Shaper School, the list said. I don't know what a 'Shaper' might be, or what sort of magic they might do, but I aim to find out.

Calto says, "Alright, Lexen. Just give me a moment to calibrate the Nexus for your destination."

The gnome walks over to the circle of obelisks covered in glowing runes, and touches it in a few places while concentrating intently. Different runes light up, and encircle the mysterious teleportation device.

"Alright, there you go," Calto says, stepping away again. "The Nexus is ready to go. Good luck."

"Thanks, Calto."

I step into the Nexus and stand within the center of the runic circle. Calto activates the powerful device, and my vision is filled with swirling mist. I can see nothing, and I'm disoriented, dizzy, light-headed. But after a few moments, the mist has cleared, and I'm somewhere else.

Another world. A brand new world for me to discover, for good or for ill. I wonder what this place might have in store for me... and how many times it's going to kill me.

The place looks strange to me. A huge city with sprawling domes, with strange creatures standing around or patrolling the streets. I could not even begin to name what many of these things are called.

I feel as though I'm being stared at, and realize that my manner of dress probably looks a little out of place around here. That, or the fact that an apparent ten-year-old boy is running around by himself. But I'm betting it's the fact that I'm wearing a short mage's robe over blue jeans and sneakers.

"Pardon me," I ask a random passerby. "Could you point me the way to the Shaper school, by chance?"

"Oh," he says hesitantly. "Um. I think you're looking for that building, over that way?" He points off vaguely.

"Thank you, sir. I'll check over that way, then."

I head over in the indicated direction and look around. So many fancy buildings. I have to admit that I feel a little out of place here. Before I was sent off to learn magic, I lived in a small village my entire life, where there were more sheep than people. I absently hope that my mother doesn't come looking for me, although I doubt it. She just wanted me to go learn magic. She didn't specify _where_ I was to learn magic... a little perceived loophole of an excuse that let me slip off to another world entirely from where she left me.

I walk up to someone wearing a robe with a strange symbol on it. The symbol of these Shapers, perhaps? I ask, "Excuse me, sir. Could you tell me, perhaps, how I might be able to sign up to learn Shaping?"

He looks at me strangely. Did I say something wrong? "An outsider child, huh? Where did you come from, young man?"

"A long way away from here," I tell him honestly. "Is that a problem?"

The Shaper sighs heavily. "No, of course not. We have to get our candidates from somewhere, after all. So many apply, so few prove suitable. What do you know of the Shapers?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

"You must be from an awfully remote area, then," he says. "No matter. You'll learn, or you'll fail. It's not my place to judge your potential and suitability. The Shapers will determine what you are allowed to learn, and whether you will be elevated into our ranks, merely permitted to study less restricted forms of magic as an outsider, or barred from practicing any magic at all."

I didn't realize that these Shapers had such a tight control over magic in Terrestia. I find the idea to be... unthinkable, really. My home had unprecedented freedom where that sort of thing was concerned. Was that merely an anomaly? Were more worlds like this, instead?

Things become much easier for me when I realize that they're not looking for talent so much as loyalty, first and foremost. They want to recruit people who will be loyal to the Shaper order, regardless of their magical talent. As further evidence of this, Guardians appear to be more warrior than mage, and even Agents seem to be more focused on combat than Shaping."

I start in on several years of training just to be an apprentice. I don't mind, though. There's a lot to be learned even at this stage, and it gives me a chance to familiarize myself with the world I've found myself in.

My early lessons seem less inclined to try to teach me anything than to make it clear just what I should not do. I spend many lengthy lectures on ethics and regulations, and not a lot of time actually learning much of anything.

One thing that I can appreciate them teaching, however, is the ability to rapidly absorb and retain knowledge. I suppose they spend so much time teaching you what not to do that when they do actually get around to teaching you how to do something, they don't want to have to repeat themselves overly much. But for all the dull lectures, this is worth it. This ability will prove very useful, I think.

One day, my instructor takes me aside to speak with me. "You are too kind to the serviles," he says. "You should not treat them like people. They are not people, they're creations. Kindness only breeds rogues."

"I'm sorry..." I say in confusion. "What did I do wrong?"

"You thanked the servile who brought you your breakfast."

"Oh... I guess I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again." I look at the floor sheepishly, although it's in part to hide the hard look in my eyes.

That's not good enough for the Shapers, however. The next day, I'm brought to the punishment room where the very same servile is waiting to be flogged, and given a whip.

The Shaper tells me, "You will administer its punishment."

"What did he do wrong?" I ask.

"Irrelevent. Don't ask questions. Ten lashes, or you will share in its punishment."

I stare at the Shaper for a few moments, wondering if he really meant that, but he appears deadly serious.

I don't know if I can really stomach this sort of thing. Is this what I'm going to have to do in order to be a Shaper? If that's the case, I'm not entirely certain that I really want to be a Shaper. Still, should I set aside my principles and bury my true feelings in order to learn their arts, perhaps with the hope of bringing them down from within at a later date?

I decide to play along with it, no matter what they make me do. I lock away my true thoughts in the back of my mind and harden my heart, put a determined mask on my face, and heft the whip. I viciously whip the poor, innocent servile, imagining instead doing it to the Shaper who is forcing me to do such a thing.

The Shaper seems mollified at that, not realizing what might actually be going on in my head.

That night, I lay awake in my cot, torn between guilt and hatred. What more, I wonder, will the Shapers make me do in order to prove myself worthy of wielding their powers? I find that this does not speak well of anyone that actually makes it through the Shaper training. What any full Shaper must be like.

I must deceive. I must lie. I must be distant. I must not let this get to me. Because if I do, I know it will drive me insane. There will come a time when I'm able to do as I choose, and let my inner mind out again, and be myself. Until then, I will bide my time, and play along.

I set the cold mask firmly in place and let not a hint show through my eyes. I play my role well. I'm cruel to serviles. I'm harsh with creations.

"I approve of your progress," my instructor tells me. "You've done well of late. You might truly be worthy of a place among us after all."

"Thank you, Shaper," I reply, nodding my head respectfully toward him.

By the look on his face, I think that he does not even consider that I may merely be very good at acting.

"There is one matter I must address first, however," he says.

"What is that, Shaper?" I ask.

"I've noticed that you've been looking strangely at one of the Guardian trainees. Tell me, apprentice... are you... interested in _men_?"

I blink at him in confusion. I hadn't realized that I was staring at him that much. Admittedly, he's a handsome man, and quite talented at combat.

I tell him, "I don't know what you're talking about, Shaper."

And, I silently think to myself, even if I am interested in men, that's none of your damned business.

"I was hoping I was merely imagining things. Good. Be sure to keep it that way. I will not have my students engaging in inappropriate relationships."

"Of course, Shaper," I assure him.

I think I just felt the hatred in my heart for the Shapers grow just a little bit more.

Another year of training passes slowly by. Not that it's still much of training. A lot of study, a lot of work, but not a lot of actual learning or doing.

My instructor comes to me and says, "I've come to congratulate you, apprentice. You've been officially accepted into the Shaper order."

"Really?" I say excitedly.

"Prepare yourself. Your real work is about to begin. After a brief ceremony, you'll be sent off to a Shaper colony on a remote island. You'll be spending the next five years there aiding in their research and assisting them. When you've completed that, you'll be sent off to another school to begin your actual Shaping training."

"I... I am honored. I shall do my best, Shaper."

"See to it that you do. I will not have your behavior reflecting poorly upon my institution. You've come a long way, but do not grow complacent and allow yourself to slip back into your old ways just because you're in a new place."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Shaper," I assure him. "I will be true and loyal to the Shaper order and uphold their ideals however I can."

"Very well. Be ready for your ceremony tomorrow. You'll be leaving in a week."

The ceremony is brief, but earnest. I don the traditional robes of the Shaper order. In the back of my mind, I want nothing more than to burn these robes, even if I'm still wearing them at the time.

Then, the day of my departure arrives, and I get my first look at the craft I'm going to be sailing on. It's a specially modified drayk, a non-Barred variety apparently. This sea-drayk has a flat surface on its back to allow it to more easily carry passengers or cargo.

I think it's a wonderful, magnificient creature. It's intelligent enough to know where it's going, strong enough to actually get there, but it must be bred to be extremely loyal to the Shapers, or it would never be allowed to live.

I receive no heartfelt goodbyes from my instructor. He merely stands stoicly on the dock, watching me go.

I carry my supplies aboard the drayk and sail away without a backward glance.

I won't miss that place, or that man.

Once I'm out of sight of land, I shove my supplies into my bag of holding. No sense in carrying them around in the open anymore, and I don't need to hide that I even have it at the moment. I've hidden a lot of things from the Shapers, I think, as I lay back and let out a breath of relief, finally able to relax a little. I was always on guard, never letting down my mask, not even in private. Never giving them a hint toward the truth.

As I sail along, I come within visual distance of an island, with mountains rising out of the sea mists. Curiously, I take a quick look at my map to identify the place. The place is apparently called Sucia Island, and it's listed as Barred.

I wonder just what sort of terrible thing might have happened here to have caused the Shapers to declare this place Barred. Did some magical experiment go horribly awry and unleash dangerous rogue creations upon the island? Or did someone simply unveil a secret that should never have been discovered?

While I'm distracted with wondering, I fail to notice a ship before it is too late. I'm under attack! After a rapid exchange of volleys between the wooden vessel and my fire-breathing live craft, both of our ships are sinking beneath the waves. With the last of its strength, the dying sea-drayk pushes me onto a dock on the Barred island, and then it's gone.

I sigh and look around. While I was curious about the place, I hadn't actually intended to stop to look around, never mind become stranded here in a potentially dangerous place that I would probably get into trouble just for being here.

Who attacked me? That didn't look like any sort of ship the Shapers would use. For one thing, it was made of wood and canvas, and didn't look in any part alive. I doubt the Shapers would use such a large craft that wasn't alive. They usually only bother with non-living vessels for tiny boats that aren't intended to go very far.

That implies that there are outsiders on this island. If I were a good and loyal Shaper, I might be outraged at these outsiders breaking our highest laws and trespassing in forbidden territory. I, however, don't really care beyond the fact that they attacked me and stranded me here, which is somewhat annoying.

I'm glad that, at least, my supplies were all in my bag of holding and hence are still in my pocket, rather than having been lost with the ship. Failing all else, there's enough food and whatnot to keep me going in there for a good while. With any luck, there might be something edible on this island, as well. It looks as though there are still buildings intact. How long ago was this island abandoned? It might be too much to hope for to find a boat that's still seaworthy somewhere around here. I might just wind up having to resort to building my own.

I head in to explore the buildings. There's a lot more here than I might have anticipated. I'd been expecting a small, remote colony performing questionable experiments, but this? There were a lot of people living here once. What happened here?

There are essence pools, miraculously still alive despite not having been fed for ages. Other supplies, clothing, weapons, even a live thorn baton. The latter I scoop up and massage thoughtfully to bring it out of hibernation. The thorn-shooting plant-like weapon revives in my hands, ready to be used to defend me against the island's dangers. I also find some books, but they're so old that I dare not touch them. They'd probably just crumble apart in my hands.

I then find a strange device, a glowing canister containing some sort of swirling, magical liquid. I don't recognize it, but I assume that it must be some sort of rejuvenation fluid. A healing potion, of some sort. I'm weak and tired after my experience off the coast. After examining the canister, I think it's used by placing one's hand on top of it to allow the liquid to be absorbed, rather than by drinking it directly. So I do so.

The glowing liquid flows up into my arm and is absorbed into my body. causing me to waver for a moment dizzily. What was that stuff? Whatever it was, it wasn't a healing potion like I had assumed. It did something else. It felt like something within me... changed somehow.

I frown, and try to figure out just what it did. I don't like it when stuff tries to do things to me when I don't know what they're doing.

Shaping, it has to be. That canister _shaped_ me. They're not supposed to shape human beings. That sort of thing just isn't done. Was that what sort of experiments they were performing on this island, I wonder? That might explain why it was Barred, even to the point of banning the entire idea of shaping people.

I realize that it seems to have written into my very flesh and blood the ability to conjure fire. This... was not at all what I was expecting.

And it's not really useful to me in the long run, either. I'm looking to learn magic, to gain knowledge that I can carry on from one life to the next. This doesn't do that. All it does is changes my body in this life. While that will be useful for my activities on this world, unless I can find some books or trainers or something elsewhere, or learn how to make these canister things myself, I won't be able to take any of this with me.

But no matter. I shouldn't worry too much about that. At the very least, it'll be useful so long as I'm on this world. And honestly, that's more than good enough for the moment. I continue on, hoping that these Shaping canisters don't have any unforeseen side-effects that will come back to haunt me later.

Further off in one of the buildings, I come upon a servant mind. It appears to still be alive, having been deep in hibernation itself during the intervening years. I'm amazed at how the Shapers created these beings to last, even with ages of neglect. Effectively a talking brain on a pedestal, the servant minds are a great example of how the Shapers don't trust anything smarter than themselves.

"Ah, a Shaper comes after all this time," the servant mind says groggily. "I will rouse myself quickly that I may serve your needs. I am still capable of performing my duties. I must examine you before I am allowed to open the way into the island."

"Are you alright?" I ask. "You must have been here alone an awfully long time."

"... I am still able to perform my duties."

"How long has it been since anyone came through here?" I wonder.

"Judging by the decay in my internal organs, I estimate that it has been at least one hundred years, possibly two hundred. I apologize that I cannot give a more accurate answer for you, Shaper."

"What do you need to do in order to let me pass through?"

"I merely need to examine you. Regulations. Checking to ensure that you are not harboring any rogue creations, diseases, or any such things."

"Very well," I tell him. "Perform your inspection on me, Servant Mind."

The servant mind's gaze seems to penetrate the core of my being for several moments, examining me on some deep level.

"You pass the inspection, Shaper. You may proceed. I will return to hibernation now and conserve my strength."

"Thank you, Servant Mind."

I head on through the newly-opened doors and out into the island proper, wondering again what horrors might await me out there.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye, and turn to look in alarm, readying defensive magic. But it's only an ornk. Well, I rather doubt that I have anything to fear from livestock, even if this particular variety has tusks on it.

I relax even further when I see that it's being tended by a servile. I've never seen a servile that was particularly brave or daring. They tend to run and hide from rogue creations and cower pathetically in fear. They're not designed for combat.

Whatever secrets this island holds at least don't seem to be the sort that will immediately be attempting to jump out and kill me.

"A Shaper?" the servile says. "A Shaper come after so long? Truly?"

I wonder how long these creations might live on their own. Unlike many creations, serviles are capable of reproduction. But I don't think they have nearly the lifespan of servant minds. I have my doubts that any of the serviles currently alive on this island have ever even actually seen a Shaper before.

"Hello," I say. "Are there many serviles living here on this island?"

"Oh, yes," says the servile. "You should come to our village, Vakkiri. It not far from here. Many people live there. You will be welcome there!"

A village of serviles, living on their own without Shaper intervention? They must be smarter than the Shapers give them credit for if they've managed to survive this long on their own like this, I would imagine.

"Alright, then," I reply. "Could you point me the way to Vakkiri, please?"

The servile gives directions and shows me the path I need to take, and I thank him and head that way.

Here, I'm no longer under the watchful eye of the Shapers. Here, I don't need to hold my mask firmly in place and be careful about my every word. The Shapers will never find out every detail of what I do on Sucia Island, so I will do as I please. And it pleases me to defy the Shapers, even in this small way.


	2. Vakkiri

As I travel along the path to where the servile said I would find the village of Vakkiri, I come across a lone fyora. It's clearly a rogue, but it doesn't appear to be hostile, despite having been born a rogue and never having been under Shaper control. If anything, it seems starving and weak.

I carefully approach and inspect the creation, and realize why. This little fyora has hurt its leg, preventing it from hunting. It's a wonder that something else hasn't killed it already. Perhaps the proximity to Vakkiri has kept away anything too dangerous.

"Relax, little guy. I'm not going to hurt you."

I pull out a piece of dried meat from my bag of holding and offer it to the little red lizard. It eagerly devours the meat, although it almost takes off a finger in the process.

Then I channel forth the healing magic that had been granted by a canister back near the docks. It feels a little strange having this sort of magic as a natural and inherent part of me, usable without understanding why.

But then I think that perhaps it's not really much different from my innate time magic ability that only activates after I die. I'm pretty sure that applies to my soul rather than merely my body, however. I doubt it would just disappear if I were to change form or something.

I really have to wonder how this sort of change was accomplished. I'd always understood magic to be a part of the soul, not the body.

"All better now?"

The fyora makes a little chirping sound at me cheerfully, and rubs up against my leg. I think I've made a friend. As I continue off for Vakkiri, the fyora stubbornly follows me.

"Well, if you're going to come with me, you're going to need a name. How about Sparky?"

The fyora squeaks happily. I doubt it can tell just how lame the name is. Or just doesn't care. It's never seen a Shaper in its life, and is probably instinctively glad to have someone to follow again.

I arrive at Vakkiri and take a look around. The place appears to be primarily made up of old, abandoned Shaper buildings, unsurprisingly. Many serviles are staring at me. Some are afraid, others are full of awe, some suspicious or nervous, others merely curious."

"Where is your leader?" I ask them. "Who is the head servile around here?"

"You'll want to speak with Leader Khobar," says one of the serviles. "He's in that big building over there."

I head on over toward the building in question. The serviles have kept this place in good shape over the years, and have even put in new wooden floors. All in all, it looks fairly impressive, especially considering the lack of initiative I'd seen from serviles in Shaper controlled areas on the mainland.

"Are you the one called Leader Khobar?"

"I am," says the servile. "I have led these people for many years, without the aid of any Shapers. Do you think we have done well for ourselves?"

What a loaded question. Is he testing me? Well, no matter. Personally, I don't care what the Shapers might think. I'm honestly happy to see that these beings have shaken off the slave mentality common to their race and have learned to stand on their own.

"Yes," I reply. "I'm surprised and pleased to see what you serviles have done here on your own. You should be proud of your accomplishments."

"I am glad for that," Leader Khobar says. "I had hoped that when we finally encountered Shapers again, that they might appreciate what we've done, and be able to deal with us as equals rather than merely as servants."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up based on my reaction," I say. "I'm somewhat of an exception where Shapers are concerned. They seem to go out of their way to make sure that their recruits are loyal to their order and willing to see creations as merely tools rather than living beings. The only reason I got in was for being very good at acting."

"I see," Leader Khobar says. "That was not what I had expected. But still, your presence and attitude gives us Awakened some hope, regardless."

"I only hope that it's not misplaced."

"Might I ask what brings you to Sucia Island, so long after it was Barred?" Leader Khobar asks.

I reply, "My vessel was attacked by an unfamiliar sort of ship, outsiders I presume, and I was stranded here."

"You were attacked?" Leader Khobar says, looking a little alarmed. "I do not know what sort of people would be foolish enough to attack a Shaper."

The sort of people who know the Shapers are not gods, for one thing. But I keep my mouth shut on that for the moment.

"I'm not too worried right now," I say, waving a hand dismissively. "Is there any chance that there are old books and records laying around somewhere that I could study?"

Another Shaper might be more concerned about getting off of this island than anything else, or eager to destroy these outsiders who have violated our land. Me, on the other hand... My priority is in gaining knowledge, regardless of its source. And there is much to be learned here, I think, if I can only find it.

"Hmm, I might be able to help you out with that," Leader Khobar says. "There's an old ruined school nearby, you see. But there is a favor I would ask of you."

"Of course. What do you wish me to do?" I ask.

"There is a servant mind in this school who has been causing trouble for us. I would like you to eliminate it. Do this for us, and you will be considered a friend of the Awakened."

"A servant mind, huh? I'll help out however I can. What's this servant mind doing that's so troublesome for you, anyway?" I wonder.

Especially considering that servant minds can't even move.

Leader Khobar explains, "This servant mind has been controlling rogue creations and sending them to harrass the people of Vakkiri and outlying areas. This has been most troublesome and many of us have been killed or wounded because of it."

"Ah, I see. That's definitely a bad thing, then. I'll be sure to take care of the matter for you straight away."

Leader Khobar gives me directions to the ruined school as well as giving me a map of the island with the place marked on it for me.

"You could also speak with Learned Pinner in the village. She knows many things and may be able to help you."

Before I go anywhere, I head off into another building in the corner of town to speak with this Learned Pinner. She sounds very, well, learned, so at the very least I imagine she probably knows something about what happened here, maybe even has scavenged books.

This servile female is very old, and quite visibly so. "Ah, the Shaper comes to see me. I expected you'd be around here sooner or later."

"Word travels fast around here, I see," I observe.

"It's been a very long time since we've seen a Shaper. Long enough that only I still recall knowing someone who was actually around to have last seen one, long ago. But we did not truly expect them to stay gone forever."

"How long has it been?" I ask. "Two hundred years?"

"Close to thereabouts, I think, yes."

"Do you know why the Shapers abandoned this island?"

"We aren't certain," Learned Pinner replies. "We know that places are usually Barred due to experiments going disastrously long, and so have long feared what we might find on this island, but we have thus far not seen anything that would indicate such an occurrence."

"I see. Have you found any intact records of any sort from before the island was abandoned?"

"We have," she says. "Although it is more likely that you will find such things in Pentil. Here in Vakkiri, most of us are primarily concerned with moving forward, rather than preserving the past for its own sake. I, however, have tried to learn what I can."

"I've found some strange objects on this island," I say. "Canisters, full of glowing fluid. I've never seen anything quite like them before. Do you happen to know anything about them?"

"We know of them, but we cannot use them. They kill us if we try. I do not know what they are for."

"I used one, and it changed me somehow," I tell her. "This must have been what they were researching on this island... shaping _humans_. If that's the case, I can understand why it was Barred."

"It seems a strange thing to have been doing," Learned Pinner says. "I do not see anything different about you, but perhaps it would become more visible if you were to use more of them. I would advise caution when dealing with unknown artifacts, however."

"Well, thanks for the help anyway," I say. "I will probably need to seek my answers further on. But that's alright. I'll just finish helping out you guys with what I can and move on."

"Very well. Good luck in your search."

"By the way, it's getting late and I'm very tired. Is there any place I could rest for the night? And anything to eat for myself and Sparky?"

"You named your fyora Sparky?" Learned Pinner says, raising an eyebrow.

"I was feeling unoriginal."

"I'm sure a Shaper like you would not wish to sleep in the common house with us serviles--"

"No, that would be fine. I'm not picky."

"Very well. There are plenty of spare beds there. And you can buy food in the kitchen."

"Thank you. That will be fine. You've been very helpful."

Once I get some food in my stomach and feed the fyora, I head over to the common room and find an unused pallet. I receive some long looks from a number of the serviles, although one of the children dares to approach and pet Sparky on the head.

One servile female approaches me to speak with me quietly. "Greetings, Shaper. I am Sencia. I must admit that I am a little surprised to see you here. I did not think a Shaper would wish to sleep among us serviles."

I shrug. "It's comfortable, and I'd much rather be sociable with serviles than other Shapers, honestly."

"You are not what we expected of Shapers," Sencia says. "But you give us some hope. A little hope. I am of the Awakened, and I live here to help guide the serviles and keep them from drifting back into their old, Shaper-worshipping ways. I had thought that your presence here might make that more difficult, rather than easier."

"Don't worry," I assure her. "I'm not interested in trying to force any of you into serving me, never mind worshipping me. I'll help out how I can, but because I wish to, not because I expect servitude out of it."

"Perhaps you can help me with a difficulty that I have at the moment. I suspect that there is a Taker spy in the village. The Takers hate your kind, and would seek to throw their lives away in a bloody war against your people. If you can find this spy for me, I would be most grateful."

"A spy, huh? Well, I'll take a look in the morning. No promises, though. If they truly hate me so much, I doubt they would be eager to reveal themselves to me."

After chatting a little more with the serviles, I lay down to get some sleep. Sparky curls up affectionately under my chin. To think that this little fyora was a rogue earlier today, starving in the wilderness. But some food and compassion has made me a loyal friend.

Come morning, I wake to wander around the village a bit more and talk to people, in hopes of finding the spy Sencia was concerned about. Although even if I do find him, I doubt I'll turn him in. I'd much rather hear what he has to say for himself first. After all, I can certainly get behind the idea of disliking the Shapers. I lived with them for several years, after all.

The first building I poke my head into contains one very nervous-looking servile.

"Relax," I say. "You don't have to be scared of me. What's your name?"

"I-- I'm Strout. Are you... are you going to make me serve you?"

"Of course not. You don't need to be afraid of _me_ for that. I have no interest in enslaving intelligent beings."

"Good... that's... that's good."

I go and check out another building. This one contains, of all things, a fat servile ladel with jewelry. Now that's a strange sight.

"Welcome, Shaper. I am Dreet, formerly of Pentil."

"I am in awe of your lard and bling," I say.

"What?"

"Nothing," I say dismissively. "So how'd you get to be so well-off?"

"I scavenged and traded for many valuable things," Dreet replies. "In fact, I have something in the back room that might interest you. An old Shaper artifact. I'll let you have it for only three hundred coins."

"This wouldn't happen to be a canister full of swirly, glowing liquid, would it?"

"Yes, it would."

"Learned Pinner said you serviles can't use them," I point out. "They kill you. Why do you even have it?"

"It belonged to the Shapers, so it's valuable, even if it's useless to us."

"And fortunate for you that a Shaper came along for you to try to sell it to, for about three times as much as you'd charge a servile, unless I miss my guess. Am I right?"

"I-- well-- of course it would be more valuable to you. And you're a Shaper, so you're surely quite wealthy yourself, no?"

"I'm not going to count out three hundred coins for you."

The servile starts to try to argue, but I hold up a hand and dig into my bag of holding, and draw out a non-magical gemstone.

"Here. Will that be sufficient?"

I drop it into Dreet's hands, who stares at it with wide eyes. It's a fairly large and shiny ruby, well-cut and valuable.

"That will do. Thank you, Shaper!"

After Dreet opens the door, I go back to collect my canister. A little jar of power, and this one contains a blessing spell.

I head out and explore the village some more, and come upon a little hut almost hidden behind some low trees. The servile in this building seems quite eager to speak with me.

"Shaper. I am Nabb. I've been hoping you would come back and talk to me."

"Well, you could have picked a more conspicious location," I comment. "I wouldn't have even stumbled upon this hut if Sencia hadn't asked me to look for a Taker spy. I don't expect to find a spy here, though. This is an awfully bad place to be spying from, or perhaps a place for an awfully bad spy who can't even maintain his cover in front of other serviles."

Nabb sputters for a moment. "I risk my life to come speak to you. My sect did not send me, but I think you can help us. The Takers wish your alliance."

"Oh, so you _are_ just a bad spy then. Never mind, forget what I said. I apologize."

"I'm not a bad spy, but my cover was very nearly blown before you arrived, otherwise Sencia wouldn't have suspected anything. But that doesn't matter now. You're here, and I can speak with you."

"Very well," I say. "I should be polite and listen to what you have to say. Tell me about the Takers. Why would they wish my alliance? I've heard that they hate all Shapers and want them dead."

"True, but also not quite true," Nabb replies. "We are not foolish enough to turn away the aid of those who might assist us, regardless of who they might be. The Takers simply believe that no true freedom can be achieved by peaceful negotiations with the Shapers."

"This is true. The Shapers will try to kill you all. The ideal of the Awakened is a pipe dream that can never be."

"You see the truth of it," Nabb says. "But when it comes to war, which side will you be on?"

"I'll be fighting the Shapers right alongside you serviles, even if it costs me my life."

There, I said it. Simple, honest words, not dancing around the truth for once. Personally, I find the prospect of fighting the Shapers to be almost... relieving. No more deceptions, no more charades.

"I am surprised and glad to hear that," Nabb says.

"And don't think I say that lightly, either."

"I was going to offer you power. The Takers have strong allies. But I didn't even get to that part yet. And the way you talk makes me think you hate the Shapers just as much as us serviles. Why is that?"

"I don't like slavery, in any form. I know how the Shapers operate. There is no freedom for creations when they are in control, to be sure, but neither is there any freedom for ordinary humans, nor even for other Shapers. There are only degrees of slavery."

"I see. Then, I have something I must ask of you. The Takers would be grateful if you would kill Ellhrah, the leader of the Awakened. He is intelligent and powerful, and given the opportunity, he could control all of Sucia Island."

I raise an eyebrow at that. "Wouldn't killing the Obeyers make more sense? Their ideals are more inherently incompatable with yours. The Awakened could still be swayed to your side, given the proper impetus."

"Perhaps. But Ellhrah is still dangerous. Consider this. I will remain here for the time being, if you wish to speak more."

"I'll consider doing this, but not yet. I wish to gather more information before I start murdering people. You understand?"

"Of course," Nabb says. "Good luck to you, Shaper."

I turn and leave Nabb alone in the hut. But I don't report him to Sencia.


	3. Killing and Being Killed

As Leader Khobar had warned me, I come across a number of rogue creations in the forest outside of the ruins, primarily fyoras. Nothing especially terrifying for a Shaper or even a typical mage, but no doubt problematic for serviles.

I wonder why there are so many rogues out here. Fyoras aren't normally able to breed. Shapers generally try to make militant creations like this sterile, so as to avoid situations like this. Perhaps their measures weren't as effective as they thought.

It strikes me as very sloppy, really. The Shapers obviously don't have as much control, even over the things they create or how they create them, as they might like to believe.

With the help of my own fyora, Sparky, I slay the rogue ones who are intent upon attacking me. I then push forward toward the ruins of the old Shaper school.

This place is a mess. The walls are crumbling and the building is falling apart, and furthermore, it appears that the place is crawling with rogue creations, as well. They've no doubt caused further damage to the place in addition to the ravages of time. I'm starting to have my doubts that I will find anything of use that I might learn here at all.

Nonetheless, I go inside and take a thorough look around, eliminating rogues as I go. Even if I don't find anything I can use here, I'll still be able to help the serviles in Vakkiri, at least.

It's dim inside. Some of the glowing crystals still hiss into illumination as I approach, but their light is weak and many of them have been broken over the years.

Strangely, I come upon a room with shaping vats that appear to have been in use recently. They still have misshapen lumps of essence in them, and I go over to poke at one of them.

A deformed fyora lunges out of the vat and very nearly takes my nose off. I and Sparkly quickly put the poor creation out of its misery. It looks as though someone has been trying to master the arts of the Shapers, without any of the training or knowledge. They could have at least cleaned up their mess when they were done, though.

I get my hopes up when I find a book that's apparently the journal of one of the Shapers who worked here. He wrote that they were ordered to abandon their research here and destroy any records of it, but he did not want his work to be forgotten and so had tried to record his knowledge for whoever might come after to rediscover it.

Unfortunately, the book had been chewed apart by rogue creations. There's nothing else to learn from it.

In the inner shaping hall, I come upon a large green thahd who displays a strange sense of intelligence. In fact, he speaks to me.

"I Rawbone! You kill my pets! I kill you now!"

"Well, sorry about that, but they didn't exactly leave me much choice, seeing as they were attacking me on sight. Perhaps you should have trained them not to attack your guests?"

The thahd seems slightly confused for a moment by my words, but isn't at all dissuaded from attacking me.

After a rough fight, I put down Rawbone. Panting and wincing from the bruises, I heal my wounds and those of Sparky. Among Rawbone's possessions, which mostly consist of scavenged trash, I come upon a key. He probably had no idea how to use it and only kept it because it was slightly shiny.

I also find another one of those canisters inside the building, and use it to make myself stronger. From this one, I gain the ability to shape an artila, an acid-spitting worm. I gather up some assorted supplies, extra thorns, and valuables that weren't ruined as well.

Deep in the back of the school and protected by many creations, I find the servant mind that Leader Khobar had told me about. This servant mind seems much more alert and healthy than the one at the docks. Perhaps someone has been feeding and caring for it.

"Shaper," the servant mind says. "A Shaper comes here."

"Hello, Servant Mind. How are you doing?"

"The serviles from Pentil have been feeding me, so I am well. But there are rebellious serviles over in the settlement of Vakkiri. They deny you Shapers and espouse blasphemous ideas. I have been attempting to eliminate them. But I am a mere servant mind."

"So that's what you've been doing with these creations? They've really made a mess of the place."

"I apologize for the state of this place, Shaper. I have tried my best, but there is little that I have been able to do. I was able to bring the creations here, but I was unable to prevent them from going rogue."

I shake my head exasperatedly. "Also, you've been concerning yourself with the opinions of harmless serviles rather than adhering to your duties to this school?"

"I'm sorry, Shaper," the servant mind says. "If the serviles had been more obedient, they might have aided in maintaining this place for you."

"Do not blame your own shortcomings on the serviles," I say. "I am highly disappointed. I came here hoping to find knowledge, only to discover that rogue creations had destroyed everything that there might have been to find."

"I'm afraid that much of what you might have found had already been destroyed before this place was abandoned."

"Well, I've come from the mainland to reclaim this island and its research. As the ranking Shaper here, I'm now the head of the Sucia Island research facility. The orders to Bar the place and seal away its knowledge are rescinded. So if there's anything you can tell me, I would have you do so, servant mind."

The servant mind seems nervous. "We were ordered to destroy what was learned. We were ordered to forget, and I did so to the best of my ability. But I was unable to do so fully. There is still a little... still a little knowledge which I can pass along to you, Shaper."

Then, to my surprise, the servant mind stares at me hard for a long moment, and I feel something tingling in my body. It's the same sort of effect as with the canisters! Creations aren't supposed to be able to shape! I'm alarmed at the strange ability this servant mind has proven to possess, but I stay quiet.

This is not the sort of 'knowledge' that I had been hoping for. I sigh mentally and accept the additional power, even though I am no closer as yet to discovering the real secrets behind this form of Shaping.

"Thank you, Servant Mind," I say graciously. "Now, I have new instructions for you."

"It would please me to know that I am serving the will of the Shapers. What would you have me do?"

"I want you to get this building cleaned up as best as you can, and keep the rogues under control or at bay. I'll send some serviles along shortly to help with the effort. Get some repairs done, make this place presentable again."

"But what of the rebellious serviles?" the servant mind asks.

"I'll deal with them myself," I say firmly. "They're not your problem anymore. Focus your efforts here. Vakkiri will fall in line shortly enough."

"Yes, Shaper. As you wish."

"Oh, one more thing. Do you happen to know where there might still be any useful supplies? Weapons, armor, canisters?"

"There were some of those things in this building. I am not certain whether they are still there or not. As for any supplies outside, I do not know. It is likely that the serviles in Pentil have things which may be of use to you, however."

"Very well," I say. "I shall head there, after I have finished securing Vakkiri."

I turn and head out of the ruined school again. I dislike having to treat creations in this manner, but it's the only way some of them will respond well. Servant minds are designed to be extremely loyal to the Shapers, to counterbalance their intelligence. While it's well enough to treat serviles as equals who wish to be treated as equals, for other creations I have to put on the mask of a strong leader figure.

I return to Vakkiri and go back to speak with Leader Khobar again.

"Did you find what you were looking for in the school?" Leader Khobar asks.

"I'm afraid not," I reply. "Any books or anything was long since ruined by rogues and time."

"That's a pity. And the servant mind?"

"The servant mind in the school shouldn't be a problem any longer."

"So you killed it?"

"No," I say. "I convinced the servant mind that you weren't his problem and gave him something else to occupy his time with."

"I see."

"I generally prefer to find diplomatic solutions that do not require killing innocent beings needlessly. It's bad enough that I was forced to kill many of the creations who were attacking me in the forest. They have as much right to live as anyone else..."

"Ah. I see," Leader Khobar says. "For a moment, I had feared that this was some sort of trick, and that your previous words to me had been a lie."

"If that had been so, it would have been easy to lie about not killing the servant mind as well. I don't make a habit of lying if I can help it. Especially not toward those whose ideas I happen to agree with and would prefer to be my friends."

Of course, a part of that is the fact that there are those in various worlds who can tell that spoken words are a lie. It's easier to deceive people if necessary by omission or making misleading statements.

"Then you can consider yourself a friend of the Awakened."

"Is there anything else I could assist you with?"

"We've been having difficulties with some bandits north of the village. We have enough trouble with rogues without having fellow serviles raiding our food. If you can get them to stop, I'll send you to someplace else that might have the knowledge you seek."

"Bandits," I say with a short nod. "Very well, I'll see what I can do."

I'm drained and exhausted from my long haul through the school, and barely have any essence left in me, so I get something to eat and settle in to rest.

In the morning, I make preparations to deal with the bandit problem, hopefully without requiring as much fighting as the school.

Before I go, I head over to the small shaping hall where Learned Pinner now resides. The facilities are old and crude, but adequate for my purposes, if only barely. With my essence restored, I'm able to shape an artila, to add some much-needed firepower to my arsenal. Not my favorite sort of creation, to be sure, but beggars can't be choosers. This is the first time I've actually shaped something myself, and I think the results are good enough.

I head on out of Vakkiri again and into the forest to the north of the village, where Leader Khobar had said there were bandits causing trouble of late. I'm followed by Sparky the fyora, and my new artila, who I've dubbed Wormy, even less creatively.

Several serviles wielding thorn batons are skulking within the trees. One of them approaches me and bids me to halt.

"Shaper," says one of them, apparently their leader. "This bandit forest. You pay coins, or we hurt you."

Obviously not the brightest of serviles, or bandits for that matter. Not so much for their manner of speaking, although that doesn't help give the impression of intelligence, but for their willingness to threaten a Shaper in the first place.

Well, perhaps I should give them some credit. It's not like Shapers are invulnerable gods or anything, despite what some of them might wish their creations to believe. And honestly, this many of them could very well kill me and my fairly weak creations.

I bless my creations with magic to aid them in combat and take the plunge into the bandit-filled woods. I don't bother stopping to try to talk, and neither do the servile bandits.

Wormy dies shortly into the battle, pierced through the neck by a jagged thorn.

There's too many of them. I'm taking too much damage. I'm bleeding. It hurts.

Sparky is wounded, badly. He looks up at me, whimpering pathetically.

"Sorry, little guy." I use the last of my energy to cast a healing spell on the fyora. "Run. Run away. Save yourself."

Sparky refuses to leave my side, however.

"We kill Shaper!" Another bandit is brought down by fyora fire.

I lean back against a tree, panting, my life force bleeding out of me. I sink down into a pool of blood. Behind me, I hear the sounds of more serviles dying.

But it's too late for me. My consciousness fades, and takes with it the pain.

The familiar, not entirely comforting, mists of death surround me, and I find myself looking into the face of a playful child god again.

"I think there were a few too many bandits there," I comment wryly.

"Yeah, I'd say so," Shazmar says. "But if it makes you feel any better, Sparky avenged your death."

"Well, I'm sure Vakkiri will be grateful for that. Fat lot of good it does me now, though."

"She even tried to get a healing pod to you, but it was already too late!"

"Aww. Wait, Sparky's a she?"

"Well, yeah. You didn't realize that?" Shazmar's grin is positively unnerving.

"I didn't exactly check."

"And after she kills all the bandits, she goes off to make a nest in the forest and lay eggs to breed more little fyoras."

"Well, that's just wonderful. I'm happy for her, really. I think I'll just go back and not get myself killed next time around, however. Dying hurts."

"You say that every time."

"I do not," I protest. I am not about to start whining about not dying properly like normal people.

"A lot of the time, at least."

"I'm going now, Shazmar."

I look through the mists, seeing the image of my body slumped against the tree, dead. I grimace at the blood loss and wounds I'd taken. Not caring to look at that any longer than I have to, I will myself back, rewinding time, watching the battle in reverse.

Then I stop at the point where the battle had begun. That'll do, I think. A different strategy is in order here. I push myself back into my body again, and the mists around me vanish, leaving me back alive and in the normal world again.

"Greetings, serviles," I say to the bandits. "I take it you have claimed this part of the island for your own?"

"Yes!" proclaims their leader. "We own forest. Everybody else need pay coins to go through our forest. And we steal food! Banditry, we hear this called. We think we first servile bandits."

"Your creativity and initiative should be lauded, but I do not believe that you have completely thought through the potential consequences of your actions. You wish to be free beings, yes? But with freedom comes responsibility and accountability."

The servile seems confused at my words. "What you mean?"

"You're free to do as you choose, but actions do not exist in a vacuum. You've been waylaying travelers and stealing food from Vakkiri, have you not? What do you think other people will do in response to your actions?"

"Um... They not be happy?"

"Exactly. You're an intelligent being. If you steal food from Vakkiri, then Vakkiri will eventually grow tired of this and send someone to deal with you. Some of you may wind up hurt or killed because of this."

"What if we win?"

"Regardless of whether or not you are able to fight off whoever Vakkiri sends, it's still very likely that you will take casualties. And even if you succeed in driving off one adversary or group of adversaries, so long as you continue to raid their supplies, they can't ignore you or leave you alone. They will continue to send people to try to remove you until you stop, one way or another."

"That not sound good."

"Indeed. And if you do succeed in killing many of Vakkiri's people who are trying to defend their own livelihood, all you will accomplish is decreasing the number of people in Vakkiri who are capable of producing the very food which you are attempting to take. The settlement will fail and starve, and you will no longer have a source for your food."

"But stuff we read say bandits successful. They live free and steal from rich."

"You've been reading fiction, haven't you."

"Fiction?" The concept has apparently never occurred to him.

"Stories that aren't true. Romanticized tales of adventure. Those sorts of stories rarely have any actual grounding in reality. The truth of the matter is far less pretty."

"Oh..."

"This was all a mistake, but it's not one I'm inclined to take your lives over. Still, you should do a penance to atone for your crimes. Your actions have already hurt many people, and I cannot allow them to go unpunished."

"We not let you hurt us!"

"Relax," I assure them. "I told you I'm not interested in giving you that kind of punishment. No, instead, I want you to do something."

"What you want us do?" he asks hesitantly.

"There's an old ruined Shaper school to the east of here. I want you to go there and assist the servant mind in cleaning up the place and performing repairs on the building. You look to be good with weapons, as well. You can deal with any rogues that the servant mind cannot control, too."

"Yes! We fight good! So you want us clean up school?"

"Yes. Once this task is complete, you are free to do as you choose. Just be more aware of the consequences of your choices in the future."

"We thank kind Shaper for wisdom. We go fix school now. You tell Vakkiri we no more cause trouble."

The former servile bandits gather up their supplies and head toward the school, and I head back for Vakkiri myself.

"Did you kill them?" asks Leader Khobar

"No. I sent them off to help the servant mind repair that school. That should keep them both out of trouble for the time being."

"Your methods are strange, and I am not certain what you are trying to accomplish, but you have done as I requested, nonetheless."

I don't bother commenting that killing them would have been my first choice, if I had been competent enough to do so. The fact that I was not grates on me. I need to grow stronger. I need more canisters. Useful books would be nice, too, but I'm more likely to come across canisters.

"Was there someplace else that might have the knowledge I seek that you were intending on telling me about? And is there anything else you might need help with around here?"

Leader Khobar says, "The answer to both of those questions leads to the same place. The leader of the Awakened is called Ellhrah. He is a wise servile, and he is the one who set us upon this path." He marks the location of Ellhrah's fortress on my map. "However, we've been having difficulties with rogues on the road to his fortress of late. They sprang up there practically overnight, where there had not been such a concentration of rogues before. I would appreciate if you could find out the cause for the disturbance and remove it if you can."

"Very well," I say. "I'll head out in the morning and see what I can do about this issue."

"You have my thanks, Shaper."

After another night's sleep in the common hall, I leave Vakkiri again and head into the woods to the east of the village. Leader Khobar was right about there being a lot of rogues out here. They're primarily thahds, dumb humanoid creations who primarily enjoy punching things. My creations and I kill them quickly at range before they can get close enough to punch us. I'd rather avoid having my face beaten in by a thahd punch if at all possible."

Where are all these rogues coming from? As I continue through the forest, I notice something strange about these thahds. They don't have the look of old creations about them. They have no scars, and their skin has a smooth, waxy look to it. They were newly shaped. Someone shaped a bunch of thahds and just left them in this forest? That seems very strange.

For one thing, there shouldn't even be any other Shapers here. Of course, there shouldn't be anyone at all, and yet I was attacked by a foreign-looking ship on the way here. That implies that there are outsiders here. Outsiders who are stealing the secrets of the Shapers. I would be less bothered by that notion if they weren't apparently trying to kill me.

I care little for the sanctity of the Shapers' secrets myself, after all. I'm doing no less than stealing them myself as it is, even if I was going through legitimate channels to do so. Or at least I was originally. All bets are off now that I'm on Sucia Island.

I head off in the direction that the thahds primarily seem to be coming from, burning my way through the small army of them as I go. I'm thankful that they're disorganized and just wandering around singly or in small groups. They could be a problem if they all came at me at once.

As I wander through the forest, I come upon a small hut tucked away in a clearing that appears to be inhabited by a lone servile female.

"A Shaper, here?" the servile says. "Well, continue on and leave me be, Shaper. I am a free being and I prefer my solitude."

"Sorry to disturb you," I say. "I'll be moving on now, then."

"Thank you, Shaper."

Leaving the servile's hut, I strike deeper into the forest, searching for the source of all the rogue thahds. I discover that they all seem to be coming from a large, ruined building in the heart of the forest.

But there's too many thahds." Too close. Wormy is squished by a thahd punch.

Smack! A thahd's fist strikes me in the face. I can't concentrate on magic like this. They're all over me. I've lost track of Sparky.

Snap! Crunch! I think my bones are breaking. I sink to the ground, doubled over in pain.

Hurts. Hurts bad. My limbs hang at angles they shouldn't be in.

I don't have long to dwell on it, however. The next punch bashes in my skull.

Merciful mists of the place outside of time and space. I sigh heavily.

"That was a little embarrassing," I comment.

Shazmar says, "What, moreso than any other time you've been killed?"

"They were just stupid thahds. Am I really that bad in combat?"

"Apparently so," the trickster god says lightly.

"You'd think that, with all the power the canisters have been giving me, that I'd at least be able to take down a few thahds on my own."

"Take care that that power doesn't make you arrogant. No matter how strong you are, there will always be things that you won't be able to handle just by brute force."

"I suppose," I admit.

"In this case, don't be afraid to stoop to asking for help if you need it."

"Right," I say with a sigh.

I rewind time, looking back to before I got killed. Back to where I encountered that servile female in the forest. From the looks of her, she would appear to be a fairly tough warrior herself, actually. Perhaps she could help me, if I could convince her to.

I return to my body again at the point just before I met her.

"A Shaper, here? Well, continue on and leave me be, Shaper. I am a free being and I prefer my solitude."

I say, "Aren't you worried about all the rogues out here?"

"They don't bother me much," she says. "And I can handle the few who do wander in and decide to cause trouble for me."

"Leader Khobar sent me out to deal with the rogues."

"That's your concern, and I wish you luck with that, but I'm certain a mighty Shaper should have no real problems with that."

"Heh. I'm not so strong as you'd think," I comment. "Certainly not the god-like being other Shapers might try to present themselves as. I'm just a man who happens to have a little magic, nothing more."

"You are more humble than I would have expected of a Shaper."

"You're a strong and capable person yourself. With your help, we could deal with this rogue issue and I'll be gone from here that much more quickly. I can heal you if you get injured, at least."

"Very well. If it will get you to leave faster, I will help."

"You have my thanks," I say, graciously bowing toward her.

With the help of the servile, Seerula, we fight our way toward the source of the thahds. I'm glad I recruited help for this, as the rogues are thicker here and I would have been forced to fight more at once than I could cut down at range.

"The thahds seem to be coming from that ruined building over there," Seerula says.

"Strange. What's going on here? Is there some Shaper just sitting in there, making these things and letting them loose at random?"

"I do not know," Seerula says. "Let us find out."

We break through another bunch of thahds and make our way into the building. There's a strong scent of vinegar in the air. A different sort of smell than normal essence. This isn't right.

Then, in a large chamber in the back, we come upon a bizarre sight. A strange, tentacled mass of flesh next to an essence pool.

Seerula gapes at the monstrosity. "What... is _that_?"

"I have no idea," I admit.

Even as we watch, it squeezes forth another thahd from an orifice between its tentacles, and lets loose the fresh rogue to wander off and try to assault us.

I shoot off a firebolt at the latest thahd. "Whatever it is, it looks like it's the source of the rogues in this area. Let's destroy it, quickly."

"Agreed," says Seerula.

With magical fire, acid, and the servile's blade, we burn and hack at the monstrosity until it stops squirming.

"I could have lived out the rest of my days without seeing something like that," Seerula says. "This is bad."

"Indeed," I agree. "A creation that spawns other creations? That wouldn't be so bad if they weren't all rogues intent upon attacking everything in sight. As it is... why would someone even make something like this? This is madness."

"At least there won't be anymore thahds around here for the time being. I'm going back to my home. Good luck, Shaper."

"Farewell."

The servile heads off into the woods again.

I lean close and examine the remains of the spawner, hoping to find some clue as to its nature or creator. It looks as though it pulls essence from this nearby pool and uses that to shape its rogues with. This isn't normal essence, either, but a strange sort of mixture I've never seen before. It looks wrong, smells wrong, and feels wrong.

I also find some gemstones left behind in the construction of the spawner. Perhaps they helped stabilize it or give it energy or something. I don't know. I just clean them off and shove them into my bag of holding. No sense leaving valuables to go to waste.

A thorough search of the building gives me a canister that allows me to create my very own thahds. I find myself less than enthusiastic at that prospect.

There's nothing else to be found here. Shaking my head a little, I exit the building and return to Vakkiri to let Leader Khobar know what happened here.

"The road should be more clear now," I tell him. "There might still be some lingering rogues, but the source of them is gone."

"Thank you, Shaper," Leader Khobar says. "What was the source?"

"A... strange creation was spawning them. A bizarre thing with tentacles, just rooted to the ground and randomly shaping rogues that would wander off and attack anything they came across."

Leader Khobar frowns deeply at me. "I have never heard of such a thing before, and I dislike the implications of it."

"I had been wondering if these things had been around on Sucia Island before and were the cause of it being Barred, but if they hadn't been around before, then I can only assume that the outsiders on this island were responsible for it. Well, no matter for now. At least the thing is dead now, and that particular one won't be causing you anymore trouble."

"I'm a little surprised to hear that you killed this spawner rather than convincing it to be nice," Leader Khobar comments wryly.

I snicker softly. "It wasn't proving amenable to negotiations, unfortunately."


	4. Questioning Beliefs

I head back out and down the road to Ellhrah's fortress, now that the way is clear.

This fortress has been well-maintained and repaired by the serviles. The walls are in good shape, and new wooden floors cover the ground. The guards at the door stop me.

"Welcome, Shaper," one of the guards says. "You come to the fortress of Ellhrah, leader of the Awakened. We have heard that you are a friend to free serviles like us, and so we bid you welcome to enter our keep."

"I just finished clearing out the rogues along the road," I tell them. "There was a strange 'spawner' creating rogues out in the ruins. I destroyed it."

The guards frown worriedly. "Thank you for that. It's disturbing news that such a thing even existed, but I'm glad that it's gone now. That will make our job that much easier."

I head into the fort and look around. I find Ellhrah himself further back. He's not an imposing figure, but he carries with him an air of confidence that is strange to see in a servile, although rather refreshing really.

"Greetings, Shaper," says Ellhrah. "I am glad that you have come to see me. I am Ellhrah, the founder of the Awakened. I hope that you will support our cause. Would you like to hear more about our beliefs?"

So he's a religious figure. Makes sense, given the length of time that the Shapers have been gone, that they would degenerate into religion, I suppose.

"Very well," I say with forced patience. "What are your beliefs?"

"We of the Awakened believe that while we serviles should be grateful to you Shapers for creating us, we became free when you abandoned us on this island, and we no longer owe you our slavish obedience. We hope that we can, instead, deal with you as equals."

"I see," I say with feigned interest.

"This has, of course, put us at conflict with the other sects on the island. The Obeyers in Pentil would see us continue to bow and scrape toward what they think you would wish us to do. The Takers in Kazg are mad rogues who believe all Shapers are bad and would wish to destroy themselves in a futile war against you."

"So in the absence of any Shapers, you serviles have used your newfound freedom to start religious wars amongst yourselves?"

"I-- well-- that's not quite--"

I wave my hand dismissively. "Never mind that for now. I happen to agree with you that intelligent creations should be free. I despise slavery in any form."

I refrain from commenting at this time what I really think about the Awakened. There's no way that the Shapers would ever stoop to dealing with them as equals. They would purge this entire island for being rogues, even these Obeyers most likely.

"I am glad to hear that," Ellhrah says. "I have long dreamed of this day, when a Shaper would see the merit in our beliefs."

"So you claim to want to be free, but you're still hanging on the approval of the Shapers even now?"

"I-- but-- not exactly--"

I smirk softly and wave my hand again. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. I'm interested in finding magical knowledge, or information about what happened on this island before it was abandoned. Would you be able to point me in the right direction for finding any of that?"

I make a mental note for future reference on how easy it is to poke holes in his beliefs and reduce him to sputtering uselessness. That may prove useful in the future if I ever need to point out how foolish and unlikely the aspirations of the Awakened are.

"Ah, of course, Shaper. We do have a bit of old information tucked away here, although perhaps not as much as you might be hoping for. You are welcome to take a look, however."

"Thank you," I say. "Also, do you happen to know anything about the outsiders on this island?"

"I had heard something of them, but I know little beyond that they are here."

There's a hint of nervousness about him. He's hiding something. He knows something more and isn't telling me. I don't care to push him on it at the moment, however. I'd first like to take a look at the information he claims to have.

"That's alright," I say with a shrug. "I wasn't expecting much, but I had to ask."

I go and look through the fortress's record storeroom. Some old Shaper scrolls and books, mostly falling apart, and utterly useless to me. I wasn't expecting much from this angle, either, really. Nonetheless, I still thank Ellhrah politely before moving on.

Along the road to Pentil, I find a lot more rogues. I kill another spawner and find a canister that gives me the ability to open locks in the nearby ruins. That will prove to be quite useful in the future, I think.

I clear out a burrow full of roamers. At its heart, I find a rather nasty rogue vlish whom the serviles called Warp. Vlish are floating, tentacled creations with mental abilities, and Warp very nearly manages to wrest Wormy from my control and turn it against me.

Inside the burrow, i find some more canisters, including one to allow me to create roamers. That should prove a useful addition to my growing creation army.

I head back to Vakkiri to let them know that I've destroyed the spawner on the road to Pentil, and to use the meager shaping facilities there to create a roamer.

"Hmm, what shall we call you?" I say to my new roamer. The reptilian quadruped cocks its head at me, dog-like and mildly curious. "How about... Fido!"

From across the room, Learned Pinner is looking at me strangely. She doesn't say anything, however, just shakes her head and goes back to what she was doing.

The Hills of Jars, a place so named by serviles who are apparently as creative in their naming as I am, proves to a mess of locked doors and deadly fungus. It's full of Shaper mines, which are mushrooms rigged to explode when anything gets too close, and turrets, which are immobile creations that shoot torns at enemies.

Naturally, everything here sees me as an enemy. The presence of these sorts of defenses is worrisome, and not just for them being problematic to get through. Mines in particular aren't intended to live long, so someone must have grown them and placed them here fairly recently.

I approach the lands around Pentil. I come across fields of crops, but there are no serviles laboring in the rich farmland. The place appears to have been torn apart by rogues.

I find a small group of servile warriors huddled around a campfire nearby. They appear to be wounded and exhausted.

"A Shaper?" says their leader. "A Shaper has come! I had heard rumors, but I had not dared to hope a Shaper would come to aid us. Oh, Shaper, perhaps you can use your awesome powers to aid your humble creations!"

"What's the situation here?" I ask.

"You are near the town of Pentil, where the Obeyers dwell. We are yet loyal and obedient to your lofty kind. But the way is blocked by many rogues. Thahds providing cover for acid-spitting artilas."

I apply some healing magic to the wounded serviles as I listen to their leader's report.

"Hmm. You think you're up for an attack?" I ask.

"We've already taken heavy losses. We might break through, but few of us would survive, I think."

"Do not fear," I assure them. "No harm will come to you while I'm at your side. You'll have the assistance of my creations, and I will back you up with blessing and healing magic."

"Yes, mighty Shaper," the leader says. "We will assault the rogues at the gate when we have rested up and our wounds have healed."

"No. There isn't time for that. It's too dangerous. We must press the attack now, while we have a chance."

The serviles shift uneasily. They look positively terrified to go out there again, but they dare not deny the words of a Shaper.

"Y-- Yes, Shaper. We would be honored to fight and die at your side. Please grant your mighty aid to your humble creations."

"Of course. If you become wounded, I will heal you."

Our weary group heads out of the makeshift camp and marches upon the rogue creations sieging Pentil.

But there's too many of them, and we're already exhausted and stretched to our limit. Artila acid dissolves half of my force before I can manage to get healing out.

And then I'm out of essence. No more healing spells from me. I can't channel a spark anymore. I swear quietly under my breath as my force is overwhelmed. So much for promising to help them. Some help I am.

Splash! Artila spit. Covering me. Burning. Hurts. Acid. Pain. I collapse. My flesh is melting off. So much pain.

Then, no more. I'm back in the mists once again.

"Ouch. That looked like it sucked," Shazmar says brightly.

"No shit."

"Well, then, here's a word of advice for you! Don't get dissolved in acid."

I just give Shazmar a look. "I figured that out on my own, thanks."

"So, have you learned anything else from this debacle?" Shazmar asks.

"Don't run out of magic?" I say dryly.

"Exactly," Shazmar says, nodding approvingly. "You're a mage. You're nothing without your magic."

"I suppose taking the chance to rest up, and risking being ambushed in the night, would have been preferable to just getting slaughtered on the battlefield due to being unable to keep up with the healing."

"Right on. So go back there and be less stupidly impatient now!"

I turn back the scene, back to before the battle, back to when I was still in the servile camp.

"Alright. I've done what I can for you, for now. Get some rest. I'll set my creations to keep watch while we sleep, so that the rogues won't sneak up on us in the meantime."

I could certainly use a rest myself, after my complicated journey through the Hills of Jars. I must have cast my brand-new unlocking spell at least thirty or forty times in there. And this time, I don't want to run out of energy in the middle of a battle.

Come morning, the serviles are still a little hesitant about pressing the assault.

"We can do this," I tell them. "Focus on the artilas, first off. Make sure to take them down with your javelins before they have a chance to hit you with their acid. If any of you become wounded, I will heal you."

The fight proves a bit rough still, but primarily because I find myself running all over the battlefield trying to keep up with my promise of healing. Perhaps I should have expected that what passes for a servile military would be so disorganized, even when fully rested up.

Once the battle is over and all the rogues in the immediate vicinity are dead, I rub my temples and set about healing any remaining wounds.

I tell the servile warriors, "Your hearts are in the right place, but I think we need to have a talk about battleground tactics sometime. If you serviles really want to be warriors, I'm going to need to teach you a bit of strategy."

"We fight because we must," says their leader. "There are so many dangers on this island, we don't have much choice."

"I understand," I say. "You've done well for yourselves, all things considered."

"We would welcome whatever wisdom the Shapers see fit to share with us."

As we walk toward Pentil, I give them some pointers on tactics. The serviles listen intently with interest.

Pentil is much larger than Vakkiri, and was probably the primarily administrative center of Sucia Island once. In Pentil, the reception is rather different than in Vakkiri. Here, they seem almost in awe of me, as if a long-lost god has finally returned to them. It's strange how the Pentil serviles think they're good and loyal and obedient, and yet they still act nothing like actual good, loyal, obedient serviles among the Shapers.

The one in charge here is a servile named Leader Rydell. He seems torn between wanting to bow down to me, and protecting his position.

"I've heard you've had dealings with Vakkiri," says Leader Rydell.

"Yes, what of it?"

"They are free-minded, rogue serviles, and yet you support them? You cannot be a true Shaper."

I stare at him for a long moment, and raise an eyebrow at this servile leader. "You've raised up the Shapers as gods, and then if one shows up who does not meet what you think a Shaper should be like, you arbitrarily decide that he must not be a 'true Shaper'? Because every Shaper, everywhere, for centuries, has been exactly the same?"

"It is a difficult thing, I know, but we must judge by what our records say Shapers should be like. How else are we to know them?"

"And you think yourself better than Vakkiri for this? You would seek to think you know best, better than an actual Shaper that has come to visit you. Actually, I'm positively stunned by your arrogance and hypocrisy. Do you have any idea what the Shapers on the mainland would do to you for this sort of attitude? They don't need your worship and don't really care what you think of them -- all they want is to be obeyed."

Leader Rydell seems uncertain how to respond to this.

"Heh," I give a short laugh. "It's also laughably ironic that it was the supposedly rogue serviles in Vakkiri who were quicker to help me out and do what I asked them to without question. Perhaps you are merely envious of the attention and fear that you might compare unfavorably to them?"

"Pentil is a prosperous town, and we are obedient to the will of the true Shapers, as passed down by word of old."

"Yes, you've done quite well for yourselves here."

"We live to serve the will of the true Shapers."

"I do, however, want you to stop using that phrase. There are as many kinds of Shapers as there are serviles. And regardless of what you might think of me, if I tell you to do something, I expect to be obeyed. Are we clear?"

"Y-- Yes, Shaper. What would you have this humble servile do?"

"Right now, I'm looking for information, old records from the time before this island was abandoned. No matter how insignificant they might seem. I was told that you might have preserved some of them in this village."

"Yes, we have! There have been many serviles working diligently to preserve the old Shaper knowledge in the hopes that that is what they would wish us to do."

He gives me directions to the hall of records. I nod to him appreciatively and head out to find it.

Well, they certainly do have a lot of records in this building. And I did tell him that I was interested in them, no matter how insignificant they might seem. But these mundane records are stretching the boundaries of interesting even for me. Nonetheless, I search through the old bureaucratic records diligently. One thing quickly becomes clear, even if it wasn't already. This place was a major operation at some point in the past. Well, that much I had already figured out. I sift through to see if there's any information about the human-enhancement canisters.

I spend hours reading through the records. Hmm, shipping manifests. They brought in a lot of crystals and refined metals from elsewhere. A lot of it was taken off to the main facility in the northeast corner of the island. Requisitions for serviles, thorn batons, mines, turrets... I'm guessing that if I want to find answers, that facility is probably the best bet. And it sounds like it's probably well-defended. From the sounds of things, the place looks on par with many major Shaper research facilities on the mainland.

"This has been very helpful, servile. You've all done good work here."

The servile female beams in pride. "Thank you, Shaper. We shall redouble our efforts to ensure that the Shaper writings are not lost. If you happen to find any other records in your travels, you can bring them here so that we may preserve them."

"I'll certainly keep you in mind if I run across anything I'd like to be copied, yes."

I diplomatically refrain from telling her that, while I might come across something that I would want copied, it would not be of the same nature as the sorts of things that she and her fellow serviles have been spending many laborous hours preserving here.

Pentil has a small shaping hall with essence pools carefully maintained by the Obeyers. Before I leave, I decide to stop by there and create a second roamer. That will give me some more offensive power in the event that combat proves necessary. And it no doubt will. I wish I could make drayks. They've been Barred for some time, but we learned about them and how they were a prime example of the dangers in intelligent and powerful creations.

A few nearby serviles stop what they're doing to watch in awe as the roamer takes form. My audience has never seen actual Shaping take place before, so they're filled with wonder at even a simple roamer.

"Hmm, you're going to need a name," I say. "I think I'll call you... Rover!"

I imagine Learned Pinner, back in Vakkiri, putting her face in her hands.

I'm eager to leave Pentil, really. I'm not entirely comfortable around serviles with this sort of attitude. They want to obey the Shapers, but they don't want to obey this particular Shaper. They're honestly just as rogue as the rest of the serviles on this island in that way. It's the hypocrisy of it all that bothers me, really. If this is what they choose to do with their freedom, that's their prerogative.

I spend the night in a room far too opulent for my tastes, even if it would be considered a rather poor one in more civilized areas. I leave Pentil the next morning, and head east. I'm eager to see Kazg and meet the Takers.


	5. The Takers

I come upon a dead land filled with tombs, and grow excited at the prospect of some grave robbery. Shapers bury their dead with knowledge, rather than treasure, and hence this might be a good place to find some actual books that are likely still intact.

Of course, the tombs appear to be guarded as well. I will need to be cautious. Between my spells and the attacks of my fyora and artila, I'm able to gain access to the tombs and peruse the knowledge preserved within.

I find books on Shaping, of course, as well as on offensive and defensive magic, mental magic, and healing craft. All in all, it's certainly a worthwhile prospect, and once I have the defenses cleared, I make camp and settle in to spending the next day or two reading everything I can get my hands on.

I'm grateful for the learning and memory retention abilities that the Shapers taught me to start off with, as in situations like this, they really come in handy. I won't need to take the books with me or spend weeks learning and practicing things. I can just read through them once, and the knowledge is mine to call up whenever I wish.

None of the books in the tombs really detail the true secrets of this island, but then I hadn't really expected them to. Still, given my own limited level of actual training in this world so far, they're a worthwhile detour nonetheless.

* * *

If I thought I had seen some strange servile behavior before, this was nothing compared to what I encounter when I finally reach Kazg. I met some degree of suspicion in Vakkiri and even Pentil, but here it seems as though there's nothing but outright hate and fear from the serviles in Kazg. The way they look at me positively makes my skin crawl, really.

The guards outside of the village gates stop me as I approach. "Halt, Shaper. We want no trouble from your kind here in Kazg."

"I'm not intending on causing trouble," I tell them.

"You best not be," the servile guard says. "We let you in, but we watch you. You make any crime, we kill you. Understand?"

"Perfectly."

I head into the village of Kazg, feeling the uncomfortable gaze of many serviles upon me. I have to wonder if any of them will actually attack me in the village itself, even though the guards allowed me to enter freely. I'll have to be on my guard, I fear.

First things first, I stop by the marketplace and buy some food to restock my supplies. The servile merchant charges me at least three times what I had paid for similar things in Pentil and Vakkiri. Although the more desolate terrain around Kazg might have something to do with that as well, it's still probably mostly because I'm a Shaper.

I then go to see the leader of this village, a servile woman named Gnorrel. The guards are happier to let me pass than I had anticipated.

"Yes, Shaper," a guard says. "You go see leader. Gnorrel want talk you. But you no harm leader, or we kill."

Gnorrel is a rough-looking servile female, scarred and tough, and looks to be older than she no doubt actually is.

"You are Leader Gnorrel, I take it?"

"I be Gnorrel," she says. "We Takers wait long for day Shapers return. And now you here."

"I've heard about about the Takers, and I've noticed more... hostility here than in Vakkiri and Pentil. I'd like to hear about them from your own mouth, however."

"We be Takers of Free," Gnorrel says. "We know we not able to live with Shapers in peace. We must take our free."

"Sensible and practical," I say, nodding approvingly. "Both the Obeyers and the Awakened are deluded idealists, just ones with different ideals."

Gnorrel looks at me with a touch of surprise, raising an eyebrow. She clearly had not expected that of me.

"I know you have dealing with Awakened. But they not go far enough. They want be equals, but we no can be equals of Shapers."

"I agree completely. I've been mincing my way around this island so far, trying to avoid angering people who could very well kill me."

"You alone on Sucia. Other Shapers not protect you here."

"Personally, if there were other Shapers around, I'd be more worried about them than the serviles or all the rogues. Do you have any idea the amount of mincing and well-placed words I had to utilize just to get permission to learn Shaping? I had to make them think that I was a good and loyal Shaper, in agreement with all their ideals."

"I see. And you not, you say, good loyal Shaper?"

"Not at all. Personally, I find a lot of the things the Shapers do to be positively disgusting. I've never liked slavery, in any form or by any name, and all the worse when they create intelligent beings solely to be slaves..."

"And yet you Shaper. Why you want be Shaper if you think so?"

"I'm primarily interested in the acquisition of knowledge, from whatever source, magical knowledge in particular. So I sought out the Shapers to learn from them. I did not even realize the state of things when I first encountered the Shapers. I'd never even seen a servile before."

"I see. You be from far away?"

"Something like that, yeah," I say. "And you Takers... that's something I can get behind. You have the right idea. Once this gets out, there will be bloodshed. Many will die on both sides. But change rarely happens peacefully. I wish to join you, if you're willing to take a human."

"A Shaper would seek to join Takers?" Gnorrel says. "Strange thought. But perhaps. First you must prove you trust."

"What would you have me do?" I ask.

"Go find hidden Awakened fort. Kill Ellrah. Do, and you can be Taker."

I raise an eyebrow and give her an odd look. "I don't see what that would prove. If I were a good and loyal Shaper, I'd have no hesitation about killing a servile. Of course, if I were a good and loyal Shaper, I'd be planning on destroying everything on this island. Still, all this really would prove is my willingness to commit murder in the name of the Takers. Is that what you're asking for?"

"Takers not fear get hands dirty," Gnorrel says. "We do what we must."

"Are the Awakened a tactical danger to you?" I ask. "They seemed pretty benign, but of course, they might also prove to be a spoiler factor. Without the Awakened around, the more independently minded serviles would be more likely to support the Takers instead."

"They dangerous," Gnorrel says. "More than you think."

"Hmm," I say. "Although, I think Ellhrah would be more dangerous as a martyr. A living person can be discredited, but a martyr cannot be silenced. Often, it will only make the followers all the more fervent and dangerous."

"A martyr?" Gnorrel says. "What you say?"

"There's nothing more dangerous than a figurehead at the height of its popularity," I say. "Discredit Ellhrah. Make it so no one would wish to follow him any longer. And only then kill him."

"Yes. Good plan. Do that. When Ellhrah dead, Takers welcome you gladly."

"I can do that," I say. "The Awakened shall soon be not nearly so strong as they currently are. Before I go, may I ask you a few questions?"

"Ask."

"Why is it that both the Awakened and the Obeyers speak like, well, Shapers, but the Takers speak... like serviles? Is it because youdon't want to be like Shapers?"

"We talk servile talk," Gnorrel says. "Not fancy. Simple. Honest. We no need be like Shapers."

"I can appreciate that, I think," I say. "

It's this sort of attitude that really makes me trust the Takers. Both the Awakened and the Obeyers seemed to have their own agendas that they refuse to elaborate on. But with the Takers, I know exactly where I stand. It's rather comforting, really, even if exactly where I stand with them may not be the most comfortable place to be standing just at the moment.

* * *

I return to Vakkiri. I've done a lot of work clearing the roads and killing rogues and spawners, so travel is a lot easier now.

"Leader Khobar," I say. "I wish to speak with you for a moment."

"Yes, of course, Shaper," Khobar says. "What is it?"

"Remember what I said to you when I first arrived on Sucia Island? About how most Shapers aren't like me and probably would react poorly to the ideas and activities of many of the serviles around here?"

"I recall. Still, there must be others like you, right?"

"Leader Khobar, if there were any other Shapers around, I'd be putting my life on the line if I dared to say half of the things I've said of late. They are not very forgiving of disobedience. They don't just expect it of serviles, but of Shapers as well. They try to keep even their Shapers tightly controlled as much as they can manage."

"They would control even their own people?" Khobar asks.

"Yes," I reply. "And if they don't like what you're doing, they could send you off to a dead-end position in the middle of nowhere, or simply make you disappear if that wouldn't be punishment enough. You won't hear about 'rogue Shapers' for all they'll hush it up, but the restrictions are very real, and very tight."

"I did not realize that," Khobar says. "I had always thought that Shapers, at least, were free to do as they please... Who, then, is truly free?"

"Not the ordinary humans, either. They still have to live under Shaper rule. Ironically? The ones who are truly free are you serviles here on Sucia Island. You have no idea how good you really have it here. But your freedom wasn't given by the blessing of the Shapers, nor even by careless happenstance. You're free because you chose to be free, and find your own way, rather than keep hanging on the words of the Shapers."

"And what of you?" Khobar asks.

"Me?" I say. "I'm free on Sucia Island, at least. I don't fear what anyone might think of me here. Elsewhere... My mind is free. I refuse to let myself believe in their Shaper propaganda. I might go along with what they wish of me, but for my own purposes, and not for their sake." I give a small nod, and rub my head. "I've said and done a lot of things I wish I hadn't had to."

"I'll not ask you what you've had to do in order to maintain your cover."

"Thank you," I say. "The reason I came to speak with you of this is because... I've been to Kazg, and it seems to me like the Takers are the only serviles on this island who realize that the Shapers will not welcome them with open arms."

"I see," Khobar says.

"It's not to say that the Awakened don't have a great ideal, and it would probably work with the ordinary people. The humans who aren't Shapers. They've been abused and oppressed by the Shapers as well."

"It's disappointing to think that we cannot live as equals with the Shapers," Khobar says.

"The Shapers can't even live as equals with other humans, mages, and other Shapers, never mind their creations."

"It also seems very strange to me to hear that a Shaper thinks that the Takers have the right idea. You know that they hate you and would seek nothing less than to kill all the Shapers, don't you?"

"I know," I say. "It spells rebellion, is what it is. Once a rebellion gets started, ordinary people and mages and even a few Shapers would actually join in as well. Other intelligent creations, perhaps. Anything it takes to shake off Shaper control and bring an end to the status quo. There would be bloodshed. Many deaths on both sides. But in the end, maybe, just maybe, freedom and equality might be achieved."

"Ellhrah dreamed of a peaceful solution..." Khobar says. "Were we just deluding ourselves?"

"I would not go so far as to say that," I say. "The Shapers were only a distant memory to you. You only had stories and legends to tell you what you might expect of them."

"I must think on your words," Khobar says. "Perhaps we can come to an understanding with the Takers... strange as it sounds to hear myself say this. Ellhrah will have none of it, though. I doubt he will be swayed from his ideals."

"Conviction is a dangerous thing," I say. "But don't worry about him. I'll take care of Ellhrah. As for you, you should help spread the word. You know the serviles in Vakkiri better than I do. They need to know the truth about the Shapers."

Leader Khobar gives a grave nod. His hopes and dreams have just been shattered by stark reality. He's taking it pretty well, all things considered.

It's late, so after eating some dinner, I head over to the common room to get a bit of sleep. Several serviles come over to me again, asking questions. Like last time I was here, they want to hear about what life is like on the mainland. What other Shapers are really like. So, as before, I tell them honestly what they can expect of other Shapers. And as before, they seem less than happy to hear it.

I hate to disappoint such idealistic, optimistic creatures, but this time I'm not here to pull my punches, as I tried to do last time. This time I'm here to spread a Taker agenda. I would honestly feel more guilty about this if I weren't speaking things I know to be true. But still, it wouldn't do to tell them all the negative things and none the positive. Some of these people are still children, after all. Give them some hope and wonder to go along with the cautionary tales.

The next morning, I head out to the Awakened fort to see Ellhrah. I mentally steel myself for what is to come. Ellhrah is a charismatic individual, and one that will not be readily swayed in his notions. In another age and another place, I'd even consider him something of a hero. And here I'm going to intentionally bring about his death, one way or another.

Before I find Ellhrah, I run into a servile who seems to want to speak to me quite eagerly, and takes me aside to talk in private.

"My name is Ting. I know you've come on an important mission. I'll give my life to help you complete it. There's a wand hidden in the fortress. Point it at creations and make them go poof. Even Ellhrah! Poof!"

"That could be useful, but I'm not going to kill Ellhrah," I say. "No, don't get me wrong, I'm going to make sure he's dead. I have a plan. It's going to be risky, for both of us, but if this works, it'll be far more effective than simply murdering Ellhrah in his fortress."

"I'll take that risk," Ting says. "What should I do? How can I help?"

"I'm going to have Ellhrah give a sermon. Make sure as many serviles as possible come to see. This needs to be as public as possible. I'm going to call him out on his... mistaken assumptions. I want you in the crowd to discreetly agree with me. Can you do that?"

"I'll do that," Ting says. "I'll make sure people come. I'll agree with you. Ellhrah will be dead! Wait, how this kill Ellhrah?"

"If everything goes right? Ellhrah will be torn apart by his own former supporters."

The servile gazes at me with a touch of awe, as if wondering if I can really pull this off. I'm kind of wondering that myself. But self doubt can only lead to failure, especially in a battle of wills like this. I push it out of my mind and focus on what is to come.

Before I start on my plan, I thoroughly search the keep discretely, and retrieve the wand Ting mentioned, just in case. I also find a couple canisters tucked away in back, as well as what appears to be the corpse of a servant mind, slain by a bladed weapon.

"Sheesh, if they're going to murder servant minds, they could at least take the corpse out and bury it or something..."

The serviles come out in droves, probably every one of them in the fort and any of them that were at all nearby, having heard that their great leader Ellhrah is going to give a speech, and the Shaper is involved. Tactically, this appears to have left the fort quite vulnerable, as even the guards have abandoned their posts to come see the spectacle.

But being attacked from outside is the least of Ellhrah's worries today."

The plan seems to go perfectly at first. Between myself and Ting's assistance, we get the serviles quite riled up against Ellhrah, even so far as accusing him of lying to them about what the Shapers are really like. It's blind mob thought. Perhaps some of them will regret this all later, but it's likely that they might never even question their thoughts and actions on this day.

I pick out some serviles from the crowd who are trying to resist and not going along with this. I continue to hurl accusations of hypocrisy and delusion. This isn't the time to be allowing people to be divided in their opinions. I build up a straw man of Ellhrah's beliefs and attack it as if with flaming words.

The situation devolves into an outright brawl, and several serviles are wounded in trying to defend Ellhrah, while a few others manage to escape the wrath of the mob.

I don't lay a hand on Ellhrah. I just stand by and watch as the mob I've incited against him brings him down. In the confusion, I take the opportunity to escape with Ting, just in case the former Awakened or the ones who remained loyal decide to turn on me next.

"That was amazing," Ting says. "How you do that? You not even do anything but talk. Can all Shapers kill people with words?"

"No," I say. "Some of them can. Some might even be better at it than me."

"We must go to Kazg now. We be safe there."

I chuckle. "I doubt they would react well if they suspected that this was all really a Taker plot."

We don't make it to Kazg, however, or even to the bridge, before we're intercepted by a group of irate Awakened. I recognize a few of them who had been at the fateful sermon, and they appear to have found support elsewhere, perhaps in Vakkiri or the outlying areas.

"We know what you did, Taker scum! Vakkiri is in chaos now because of you. Ellhrah lies dead, and many of his followers are confused now as to what path they should take. We aren't confused, though. We're here only for revenge."

"Even if you kill me, things won't go back to the way things were," I point out.

"We know. That doesn't matter now. Attack!"

They brought a number of armed serviles to attack us with. Maybe they even brought every servile who is still inclined to support Ellhrah's ideals. This is going to be rough, even with my creations and my canister-enhanced powers.

I'd given Ting the best baton I had, and she turns out to be reasonably good with it. I also picked up that wand she mentioned that hurts creations, but it only has so much energy in it. I empty it into our opponents, but that still only takes out half of them.

Finally, the battle is over, and we emerge victorious, but not without our losses. My artila was slain in the fight, and Ting is severely wounded. I patch her up with my best healing abilities, but it's not my strong point, even with the canisters I'd found.

"No waste your energy," Ting says. "Leave me. Get to Kazg. Tell them Ellhrah dead. I not make it."

"No," I insist. "I'm not going to leave you here. You'll be fine. I'll get you to safety even if I have to carry you the entire way."

I carefully pour the contents of a curing pod into her mouth to take care of the poison from the thorns she'd been hit with.

"Just hang in there," I say. "You're not that badly hurt. My spell healed the worst of it. It just looks worse than it actually is."

"Alright," Ting says. "We go Kazg. I think I can walk."

Ting starts to get up, but I stop her and hold her down for a moment.

"Don't try," I say. "You have a broken leg. I couldn't completely heal it. The bone will mend, but you won't be able to walk on it for the moment."

I search the corpses and collect their weapons and valuables and tuck them away in my bag of holding. I then craft a makeshift harness for Ting so that I can carry her on my back and not impair my movement and combat ability too badly.

"You really carry me all the way to Kazg?" Ting says.

"I don't make a habit of going back on promises," I say. "I'll get you there. Don't you worry."

I continue on toward the bridge, hoping that my fyora and baton will be enough to take care of any rogues that might have wandered back into the area, but at least I know that I've already cleared out the worst of it."

It takes us several more days of slow travel, but this part of the island is fairly quiet for now. Between my healing spells and the makeshift splint I'd put on it, Ting's leg is slowly starting to heal.

"We're almost there, Ting. I can see Kazg from here."

The servile farmers outside of Kazg cast some strange looks in our direction as we approach the village gates. I head in for the town hall to meet with Gnorrel and get Ting to someplace she can rest.

"What happen?" asks one of the serviles.

"Ting's leg got broken when we were attacked by Awakened fanatics," I say. "I've healed it as well as I can. Where should I take her?"

"Bring her here."

I take Ting over to where I'm directed and leave her there to be taken care of by her fellow serviles, and then head over to speak with Gnorrel and let her know how things went.

"I get word from Vakkiri," Gnorrel says. "Ellhrah dead, Awakened fallen, many dead, many want join Takers. How you do this?"

"Just words," I say. "Ting helped as well."

"She wounded?" Gnorrel asks. "They say you carry her in."

"Yeah. She was injured and her leg was broken, so I carried her all the way from the other side of the river. I wasn't about to just abandon her after she helped me. Without her assistance, what we accomplished may not have been possible."

"I surprised Shaper would help servile like that," Gnorrel says.

"I'm just full of surprises like that," I say with a faint smirk. "I think we established that I'm not a typical Shaper when I asked to join the Takers. Or, for that matter, when I arrived on the island and didn't start killing every so-called rogue in sight."

"Yes. True. You still want be Taker? You no change mind later."

"I'm not going to change my mind," I say. "I wish to join the Takers."

"Then swear loyal," Gnorrel says. "Swear you help servile be free. Swear you fight Shaper at any cost."

I drop down to one knee and bow my head toward Gnorrel. "I hereby swear my loyalty to the Takers of Free. I swear I will help intelligent creations to be free however I can. I swear I will fight the Shapers at any cost."

Gnorrel seems pleased and a little surprised. "Then stand. You be Taker from now on."

"It is an honor to be here," I say. "

"Now I must tell you. Trajkov want see you. There humans on island, not Shaper. They Sholai, from land far away. Takers make ally with them. Trajkov their leader."

"Ah. I had wondered what was up with that ship that sank my craft when I came near the island."

"Sholai take Shaper power, want help servile be free," Gnorrel says. "Want see young Shaper who come to island. Take Sholai symbol. Show them. They let you pass. Not kill you. See Trajkov."

"Thank you," I say. "I will go and see these Sholai right away."

"They no talk Shaper," Gnorrel says. "You must learn language. Go speak Toivo. He teach."

I go and see the servile named Toivo to learn what I can of the Sholai tongue. Toivo's knowledge is incomplete, but I'm quickly able to absorb a good chunk of syntax and vocabulary from what he knows.

I have not yet explored the northern parts of the island, and have heard that there are still more rogues to be found out in the wastelands. I think it would be best if I make sure that I'm well equipped and supplied before heading up there, as well as making a few more creations to help protect me.

The artila was good at packing out the damage, but very fragile. Perhaps I should go with something a little more resilient. For now, I decide to shape a few roamers to support my fyora. That should be sufficient, I hope.


	6. Seeking Trajkov

I travel through the wastelands north of Kazg, into increasingly hostile lands, purging rogues as I go. These rogues won't even deign to listen to me, even for a moment, and attack me on sight, so they're probably spawner creations rather than natural bred rogues.

I've already had to destroy a number of these damned spawners as it is. I'd dearly love to meet whoever come up with this idiotic idea. It's all well and good to want to create an army of creations, but why make creations that just attack everything on sight?

In my exploration, I come upon a laboratory that appears to have been sealed away before the island was abandoned. Hmm. Most interesting. Since it still appears to be sealed, that means that whatever might be inside is still intact and untouched by outside forces.

This might be worth looking into. Of course, on the other hand, laboratories like this tend to be sealed for good reason. It could be very dangerous go inside, and not just from rogues. The whole place might have been filled with toxic fumes, for instance.

Still, I'm hardly afraid of dying, and if this should turn out to be a bad idea that gets me killed, then I won't do it again. I cast an unlocking spell, and when that doesn't work on its own, I see about putting my living tools to use on breaking into the old lab.

The place definitely smells bad, but it doesn't appear to be immediately fatally toxic, at any rate. I proceed to explore cautiously, sending my roamers in first and quickly pulling them back if they show signs of encountering hostile vapors.

I have to wonder if this lab isn't the reason for the increasingly bad land in this part of the island. Poisons from this lab might have been leaking out into the soil and slowly destroying the land for the last two hundred years. A careless consequence of abandoning this place and sealing up this lab without taking proper precautions toward containment.

I doubt there's much I can even do about it at this point. The damage has already been done, and might just lead to the entire island becoming uninhabitable at some point in the future. Maybe a type of plant could be shaped that would leech the toxins out of the soil. But that's well beyond my ability with Shaping just now.

Deep within the lab, I find many canisters. One of them gives me the ability to create my very own drayks! I find myself grinning with glee and delight at this prospect, and head over to the lab's Shaping facilities.

With my newfound instinctual ability, I call forth essence onto one of the Shaping platforms to craft a drayk. This is a much larger and more complex being than an artila or even a roamer, but I think my natural affinity toward this kind of creature helps here.

The drayk takes shape. Leather green skin, razor sharp claws, vestigial wings, strong muscles, and an intelligent mind. Is it any wonder these creations were Barred a century ago? But Sucia Island was abandoned long before that, and they've done many stranger things here than merely creating drayks.

As I finish shaping the being, the drayk opens its eyes and looks around, then gazes straight at me. There's a look in its eyes that tells me that I am not truly in control of it at all. Have I shaped a rogue?

Despite my apprehension that the creature was going to immediately attack me, the drayk speaks instead. "What... iss my name?"

I'm a little surprised that the creature can speak already. But then I've never shaped an intelligent creation before. Perhaps it should not surprise me that they have some basic knowledge shaped into them, just like I have the knowledge to shape them as part of my being.

"I hadn't really thought of that yet," I say. "Do you have a preference?"

"No. You made me. You name me."

I think that if I give this creation a horrible name, he will very likely bite my face off. "Very well. Hmm... How about Kessel? What do you think of that?"

"Kesssel... Kessel. Yesss. It isss a good name. I like that. My name iss Kessel."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Kessel. My name is Lexen."

"What are your orders, Lexen? What do you wish me to do?"

Perhaps this drayk is more obedient than I thought. Maybe it's normal for intelligent creations to be born half-rogue like this. I don't know. Either way, I'm not about to start engaging in slavery with sentient beings if I can help it.

"You are a free being, not a slave," I tell the drayk. "I will not force you into doing anything you do not wish to do. I'll treat you as my own child, not a mere creation to be ordered around."

Kessel thinks on that for a few moments, and visibly seems to relax. I wonder if, for all his civility, he'd really been planning on attacking me if I said something he did not like.

"Very well," Kessel says. "But I have little knowledge. I wish to learn. I would learn all I can."

I smile broadly. Should I be surprised that I would shape a creation with a similar nature to my own? "I'm the same way. You can travel with me, if you like. I've been trying to learn about the secrets of this land. I'll happily share with you any knowledge I have or may find in the future."

"Excellent!" Kessel says. "In return, I shall aid you with my strength. You are a small, weak being. But none should dare attack us with the might of a drayk at your side!"

I set up camp for the night in the least contaminated area of the lab that I can find, and pull out meat for the creations to munch on as well as some more varied food for myself. Kessel eats a lot, but thankfully I make sure to pack quite a bit of food in my bag of holding.

As we eat and rest, I explain to Kessel what I know about what's going on in this part of the world, and answer any questions that he has. The drayk is a highly intelligent creature, and is quickly able to make his own conclusions about various matters.

"Why did the Shapers forbid my kind from being created?"

"They considered you to be too dangerous," I explain. "They're paranoid about any intelligent creation, as evidenced by the servant minds being unable to move, and serviles being relatively physically weak and carefully kept compliant."

"And you obviously disagree with that point of view," Kessel says.

"Indeed," I say. "And that's why I joined up with the Takers."

"I should like to meet these Takers sometime."

"I'll be heading back to Kazg eventually, but next up I'm planning on heading into the primary Shaping labs in the northeast corner of this island. I'm to meet with a man named Trajkov, who is an outsider human and an ally of the Takers."

"Ah, Shaper secrets falling into the hands of outsiders?" Kessel says. "I imagine they would not be pleased about that should they learn of it."

"Indeed. I don't wish to be the one to tell them of it. Especially given the fact that they would probably also wish to... eliminate me for some of the things I've done here."

"You are nothing like the Shapers that you have described," Kessel says. "Why is this so?"

"I kind of faked things a bit in order to convince them to accept me," I say. "I made them think that I'd be a good and loyal Shaper, but all I really wanted from them was the opportunity to learn their secrets."

Kessel chuckles. "Very clever and cunning of you. I approve."

Kessel also claims all the treasure in my bag of holding, with the caveat that I may need to part with some of it if the situation warrants it. But all in all, I don't mind, and we're likely to find more treasure than anyone selling something worth buying that a Shaper and a drayk couldn't negotiate their way about.

With that all settled, we turn in for a night of sleep, leaving a roamer alert to keep watch at all times. Just in case.

* * *

I've reached the part of the island controlled by the Sholai, who stand down and let me pass after they've seen my amulet. I'm not too inclined to talk to them much just yet, though. Now that I'm here, I just want to get to Trajkov as quickly and expediently as possible.

However, as I near the part of the facility where they say Trajkov is waiting, I find my progress impeded by a simple door. I grumble for a moment, and cast an unlocking spell on the nearby lever, to no avail. I have to wonder why I even bother with that spell at all. If a lock is remotely useful or important, the spell won't even work. The only times that it works is when the thing that's being unlocked is completely irrelevant.

A Sholai mage nearby smirks at me and approaches. She bears the signs of heavy canister use, and his eyes show a detached arrogance to them. I brace myself, wondering if she intends to fight me despite the amulet I bear signifying that I am their ally.

"You. Shaper. I am Varya. Before you may proceed, I must demand a task from you. A simple exchange. You do something for me, and I open this door for you, yes?"

Great, more people trying to extort me for help. "What do you want, Varya?"

There is an old drayk residing in the chambers nearby. It has proven troublesome to me, and I wish to have this creature removed.

"I vote we just bite this man's face off instead," Kessel suggests.

"Now, now, Kessel," I say. "It's always polite to listen to what people have to say and see all sides of an issue. The proper thing to do here is to go talk to this drayk and ask him if he wants to come bite this man's face off together."

"I _can_ understand you, you know."

"I know," I say. "I just don't care."

Varya sputters a little, and I have to wonder if he's going to just attack us outright. Finally he seems to remember that he's under strict orders not to, and that while hindering my progress might be overlooked, initiating an attack on me probably would not be tolerated.

For now, I decide to just leave Varya alone and go find this drayk, and see what he has to say about all this. But I still imagine that this will most likely end with Varya's face getting bitten off.

The chambers in question bear the heavy smell of drayk, and look as though the creation has been living here for a long time before the Sholai moved in to take over the place. There are nests piled up around what looks to be hoards of treasure.

"More outsiders come to bother me?" an old drayk says. "No, wait, you're a Shaper! I am Akkat."

"A pleasure to meet you, Akkat. I am Lexen, and this is Kessel."

"Indeed!" Kessel says. "I've never met another drayk before."

"Kessel?" Akkat says. "Hmm, a new creation?"

"Quite so," Kessel says. "This Shaper made me, and has treated me very well."

"You are fortunate, then," Akkat says. "I've lived in these halls alone ever since the Shapers abandoned me, until these obnoxious outsiders showed up and decided to move in."

"That mage Varya had the nerve to ask us to kill you," Kessel says. "The fool. What do you say we go bite his face off?"

"Varya again?" Akkat says. "Pah. I didn't want to bother with her by myself, as staying here out of the way was better than risking being wounded in such a battle. But with your help, she would be no risk."

Some might call Akkat a coward for that, but I think it a wise precaution not to pick an unnecessary fight when there's no one around that could heal him.

I head back out to where Varya is waiting nervously, and now I'm accompanied by two drayks in addition to my three roamers and my little fyora. Varya looks up and frowns at Akkat deeply as we approach.

"You would betray me?" Varya says. "Fine, then die!"

"Just so you know, you're an idiot," I say.

I cast a quick energizing spell upon the nearby creations, who then tear Varya apart before she can even get a spell off. For all his magical augmentations, she made the fatal mistake of arrogance.

"Ah, that was most satisfying," Akkat says. "Thank you, Shaper."

"My pleasure," I say. "She was annoying me as well."

I find a key on her corpse, which I then use to unlock the lever.

"You go on ahead and find Trajkov, Lexen," Kessel says. "I'm going to stay here and talk with Akkat a bit. Let me know if you run across anyone else who needs their face bitten off."

"Alright. I will. Enjoy."

* * *

And so I finally stand before Trajkov. The man is positively glowing from the use of many canisters, and yet he seems calm and controlled.

"Ah," Trajkov says. "You have come. I've been expecting you."

He speaks in the Sholai tongue, and does not know the Shaper tongue at all, but my knowledge is sufficient to converse with him at least.

"I've been eager to meet you, Trajkov. My name is Lexen."

"I am Trajkov, the leader of the Sholai on this island. You may have heard of me by now. I see you are wearing the amulet I gave to the Takers. We have much to discuss."

"Indeed I believe we do."

"You've traveled this island," Trajkov says. "You've seen how your people have treated their creations. They've created intelligent beings, capable of hopes and dreams, pleasure and pain, and what do they do with them? They enslave them, and destroy them when they displease them. Do you still think that your people are right to do what they've done?"

I give a soft snort. I can't really blame him for mistaking me for something I'm not, but best correct him as quickly as possible.

"They're not my people," I say. "I'm as much an outsider here as you are. I just happen to be one that managed to convince them to share their secrets. And to do that, I had to tell them what they wanted to hear, rather than what I really thought about things."

"I see," Trajkov says. "So you understand where I'm coming from, then?"

"The behavior of the Shapers disgusts me, but I was not previously in a position where I might do much about it directly. I'd primarily focused upon learning, gaining what knowledge and power I could glean from them. But what I've seen on this island changes things. If you seek to bring about an end to the Shapers' iron fist and improve the lot in life for intelligent creations, then I will gladly give my life to aid you in any way that I am able to."

"I'm glad to hear that," Trajkov says. "First things first, however. This book here is written in your tongue. I cannot read it. I'd like you to read this page for me and tell me what it says."

"Very well," I say.

I go up to the book on the pedestal beside him and read over the page that it's open to.

"It discusses something called a 'Geneforge', and the method required to use it safely. You need a pair of special shaping gloves, and while wearing those gloves, you must touch the surface of the pool lightly."

"Thank you," Trajkov says. "I already knew what the book said. This was merely a test to see whether I could possibly trust you or not."

"You'd only manage to catch those who are both foolish and untrustworthy with something like that. But fair enough. Perhaps I overestimate people's lack of foolishness at times. So, what's a Geneforge?"

"You have, by now, seen the products of this island, the canisters that change those who touch them and give them great power? Yes, I can see you have also used many of them."

"I have," I say. "I've used a number of them."

"I see," Trajkov says. "I also used many of them, but when I realized that they seemed to have unpleasant side effects, and they were changing me in ways I did not like, I stopped using them."

"I'm impressed at your restraint," I say. "I've found their effects to be rather addictive. But I'm not so mad as to lose control of myself, either. Perhaps that's just arrogance on my part, though."

"You think you can resist the draw of power, when you've probably used every canister you could get your hands on?"

"It's not a matter of resisting," I say. "It's a matter of choice. My mind is not that weak. I chose to make use of them because they were useful. But I had really hoped to find books. Real knowledge. I don't know how to do half the things I can do, and that disturbs me."

"I noticed that using many canisters made one more detached, aggressive, even arrogant," Trajkov says. "They make you think you are a god."

"Perhaps it was a mistake to use so many of them," I say. "But I may not have survived to get here otherwise. I'm still in control, but I dislike the prospect of losing the thing that I value most -- my own mind."

"You are wiser than I might have thought," Trajkov says. "The Shapers also created something else on this island. It's called a Geneforge. Like a canister, but far more powerful. This device can reshape a person all at once, rather than one piece at a time, and can make someone extremely powerful, like a god."

"But at what price?" I ask. "If just using canisters can wear away one's humanity, what might using the Geneforge do to a person?"

"You see the problem," Trajkov says. "I believe I can use the Geneforge and retain my sense of humanity, but I must be the only one to use it. If there were others, we might become jealous of one another's power."

"If you mean me, I'm not really interested in that sort of power anyway."

"But with that sort of power, one could challenge the might of the Shapers themselves. You have seen their abuses, and their carelessness in abandoning this island. You've seen how they treat serviles and even other humans."

"Indeed," I say. "I don't think they will change peacefully. I would rather not resort to violence, but I see no other solution to breaking the hold of the Shapers."

"You see the truth of it," Trajkov says. "With the power of the Geneforge, we might have a chance."

I look at him thoughtfully, and notice a strange look in his glowing eyes. "You're afraid of it, aren't you. You think you can control it and retain a hold on yourself, but you're still afraid of using it. Yet you're willing to risk losing yourself for the sake of helping the serviles and bringing down the Shapers? That's why you don't want anyone else to use it. You're afraid of what you might do."

Trajkov looks to the floor and gives a nod. I have to admire this man. He is strong, intelligent, wise, and very handsome. I believe I am in love with him already. "I need your help, though."

"Of course," I say. "What do you need me to do?"

"I brought another Shaper to this island before you came, to help me. His name was Goettsch. But he turned on me, and stole something important from me. A set of Shaping gloves needed to use the Geneforge. He fled to the west and set up powerful defenses there, and now we are in a stalemate. I want you to go and retrieve those gloves for me. Kill him if you have to, but it's the gloves that are important."

"What happened between you and Goettsch?" I ask.

"We had a disagreement," Trajkov says. "He wanted the power for himself, and he used too many canisters. He was greedy from the start, but the canisters were what drove him over the edge, I think."

"I see," I say. "In that case, it may be unlikely to persuade him, and he may be too dangerous to leave alive. I doubt he will let this go."

As we continue to speak for a good while longer, Kessel wanders in again after having been chatting with Akkat, to see how things are going. Trajkov seems a little surprised to see a drayk just walk in here.

"Still talking?" Kessel says. "Can you give me a status report?"

"Trajkov wants us to retrieve a pair of shaping gloves stolen by a shaper named Goettsch."

"Ah," Kessel says. "Very well. Come find me when you're ready to leave, then. I'm going back to see Akkat. Nobody else in here speaks intelligibly."

"Have fun," I say.

The drayk leaves again, leaving Trajkov raising an eyebrow at me. "Is that... your creation?"

"His name is Kessel, and yes, I created him. He is a very good friend of mine."

"I see," Trajkov says. "I certainly believe you now when you say that you are not like the other Shapers. Words are one thing, but deeds are more telling of the character of a person."

"I would be a hypocrite otherwise," Lexen says.

"You said before that you are also an outsider," Trajkov says. "Tell me, where are you from? You speak my people's tongue well, but you do not have our look about you and your name is strange to me."

"I'm from very far away, but not from the Sholai lands," I explain. "I'm just very good with languages."

"How did you convince the Shapers to let you learn their secrets?" Trajkov asks. "They don't seem eager to share for the most part."

"It wasn't easy, but I was a child at the time, and that helped. They have to get their new recruits from somewhere. People aren't born Shapers, after all, they need to be trained over the course of many years."

"You were able to get in as a child?" Trajkov says. "You must have been very clever and ambitious for your age."

I chuckle. "Yes, well, I was never exactly an ordinary child. And it was rough going at first since I knew nothing about the Shapers to start off with, but I paid attention and kept my eyes open, and wasn't afraid to conceal my true thoughts in order to convince them that I would be a good and loyal Shaper in due time."

"I'm fortunate that you were the one to be brought here," Trajkov says. "I was afraid of getting other Shapers like Goettsch, and having to motivate them by greed for wealth and power."

"And very likely having to kill them later when they proved to become a nuisance or outright dangerous, yeah."

I want to stay around Trajkov longer, and listen to his views and his plans, or hear about what his homeland is like, but at the moment, there's still work to be done. So reluctantly, after a good night's sleep, I collect my creations and set out again.


	7. Confronting Goettsch

Traveling through the northwestern part of Sucia Island, I come upon a chilly mountain valley. Before I get too far, I'm approached by a large purply-blue cryodrayk, who seems quite at home in this climate. He isn't immediately hostile, and speaks to me.

"Ah, another Shaper has come. I am Rhakkus. So long without any Shapers, and now there are two around. I must warn you, you are in great danger here."

"Goettsch came through here, I take it?" I ask.

"Yes," Rhakkus says. "He passed through here, and when he saw that I would not readily bow to him, he offered me gold and jewels to guard this area. My drayks will hunt you down if you try to go through."

"Why are you warning me, then?" I ask.

"I still feel some gratitude to the Shapers for my creation. He expected to be keeping out the Sholai, not other Shapers. Perhaps if you were to make me an offer as well, I could help you as I helped him."

"Hey," Kessel protests. "You're not getting your claws on my hoard."

Rhakkus turns to pay more attention to the other drayk for the first time, seeming a touch surprised. "Your hoard?"

"Yeah," Kessel says. " _My_ hoard. This Shaper's helpfully carrying it all for me in that magic bag of his. But he said everything that we find belongs to me. So. My hoard."

"I see," Rhakkus says. "How old are you, little drayk?"

"I am twelve days old!"

"And your Shaper is so weak that he already had to bribe you for your allegience?"

"No," Kessel says. "He told me that I'm a free being and I can do whatever I choose. I'd already decided to follow him for the time being in hopes of gaining knowledge, but he offered the treasure to me as a gift."

"I see." Rhakkus turns back to look at me strangely.

"So you created a drayk, knowing that you would not be able to control it, and then told him that he was free to do whatever he chose, presumably hoping that he would help you rather than eat you?"

"Erm," I say. "Yeah, something like that."

"Why?"

I say sheepishly, "... because drayks are awesome."

"Because... drayks are awesome."

"... Yeah. If he'd killed me, I'd at least have died knowing that I've made something much more awesome than myself."

"I... see."

The two drayks practically seem to be chuckling softly, as if sharing some sort of great joke.

"You certainly have good taste and a fine appreciation of great creations," Rhakkus says. "And you've skill enough to have made such a fine-looking and intelligent drayk. Well. Goettsch obviously didn't ask me to keep out other drayks. This is merely another drayk and his pack human. I shall instruct my drayks to ignore you."

"Thank you," Kessel says.

Somehow, I'm not sure that I feel all that much better about this. Well, it doesn't really bother me if a drayk looks down on me, I suppose. It's better than getting eaten, after all. We pass through the valley unimpeded. The other drayks completely ignore me, although a few of them stop to hiss cordial greetings toward Kessel. They aren't nearly as sociable as Rhakkus was.

 

I finally come to the part of the island where Goettsch has made his base. It appears to be an old ruined temple of sorts. As I approach, a battle gamma approaches me. It's ten feet of raw muscle in roughly humanoid shape, and I'm alert for a rough battle here, but the creation does not attack. It instead informs me that Goettsch wants to speak to me, and to follow it.

"It'll be best if you do the talking in here," Kessel says. "I'll just play the dumb creation."

"Alright."

The battle gamma leads us in to a central chamber, where Goettsch is sitting in a makeshift throne, surrounded by cryodrayks and more battle gammas. I can tell just by glancing at him that he's been partaking of many canisters.

"Ah, good," Goettsch says. "The young Shaper comes to me for guidance. No doubt you may be confused as to the proper course of action to take here. The Shaper Council would tell you something different, regardless. They are fools who locked away all this grand knowledge to be forgotten. They were mere weaklings who could not handle this sort of power! And so they would deny it to all of us. But I see you understand. The might of this island has set its mark upon you. I can see it in your appearance. It has made you strong, has it not?"

I didn't need Trajkov to tell me that this guy is insane. He barely has a chance to open his mouth before proving himself mad. Well, perhaps it's best to play along for now and see what he wants, although it's probably just to kill Trajkov, which I'm not doing.

"Oh, yes," I say. "I quite agree with you."

"I thought you would," Goettsch says. "No one who has experienced the true power that was discovered here could possibly reject it out of hand. The Shaper Council of two hundred years past were no doubt paranoid fools who threw it away without even having tasted the fruits of their labors. But with your help, I can do away with this old-fashioned squeamishness and take my rightful place at their head!"

"What would you have me do?" I ask.

"You're a resourceful and capable young Shaper," Goettsch says. "I want you to go kill Trajkov and clear the way to the Geneforge, so that I might use it and attain the greatness that is mine by right."

"Trajkov is also very powerful from having used many canisters himself. Fighting him might prove difficult."

"I would imagine so, hence I have had the foresight to prepare a means of slaying him without having to fight him directly in combat."

Goettsch pulls out a pair of Shaping gloves, affixed with tubes and strange devices. I wonder if they're the ones that he stole from Trajkov.

"When I parted ways with Trajkov, I took with me a pair of gloves required to use the Geneforge. These are not them, of course, but a clever replica. He will not be able to tell the difference between them at a glance, however. But the Geneforge will, and will not function properly without the correct pair of gloves. The power of the mighty device will kill him without the proper protection."

"So you would have me trick Trajkov into killing himself with the Geneforge?"

Even if I had not already sworn to aid Trajkov, I would find this man to be incredibly unlikeable. I surreptitiously glance around the room a bit. All these high-end creations would prove for a nasty fight if I tried to go up against Goettsch straight on. I wonder if he's keeping the real gloves on him, or if he has them hidden away somewhere.

"Yes," Goettsch says. "It's a simple task, but a vital one. I am certain that it is well within your capabilities."

"Is there anything you can do to aid me? Training, supplies, canisters?"

"You are resourceful. Help yourself."

"Very well," I say. "How about information? This temple is like nothing I've seen before. Do you happen to know who built it?"

"I do not know," Goettsch says. "History does not concern me. Only building a new future is relevant to me."

"I would very much like to study this place and learn more about it, if you would allow it, mighty Shaper. Would you please tell your guardians not to slay me on sight? I would very much appreciate the chance to learn about the ancients."

"Very well," Goettsch says. "If you wish to waste your time on such things, so be it. There's no chance that you could possibly be a threat to me, regardless. But be aware that you should stay away from my chambers, or the traps and guards there will slay you regardless. They are in the northwest corner of the ruin. Stay away from there."

"Of course, mighty Shaper." I silently thank him for telling me exactly where I should be going to look for things that he does not want me to have, but it would be overly obvious if I headed there first. I wander off into the corridors to explore and make a show of examining the ancient building.

"You have far more restraint than I," Kessel says. "I would have bitten his face off. But I trusted you to have some sort of plan, and your cleverness never fails to disappoint me."

I glance around to the cryodrayks and battle gammas patrolling the halls and hope that none of them heard him. "Hopefully he's not eavesdropping through his creations."

"Can Shapers do that?" Kessel asks. "They seem too dumb to me to tell him anything we might be saying themselves."

"Some Shapers can see through the eyes of their creations and control them directly. Let's hope Goettsch is too full of himself to bother, though, or this is going to be a short trip. I don't fancy fighting my way out of here through all these drayks and gammas."

I gain some confidence in the fact that the wandering creations don't seem to notice our conversation and just continue their patrols blindly. If he were going to attack me for saying something potentially incriminating, he would have done so by now. Or perhaps he's just waiting to see whether I'm actually going to try to steal from him.

I continue through the corridors, 'coincidentally' winding up near the northwest corner in my 'studies', and consider what sort of defenses his chambers might have on them. And the fact that they might contain alarms that will anger everything in here anyway, too.

"How many cryodrayks do you think you can take down, Kessel?"

"All of them, of course," Kessel says. "Just not at the same time. They are inferior creations made by an inferior Shaper."

"It's nice to know you don't have an inflated opinion of yourself," I say. "Alright, let's do this."

I quickly slip into the chambers, followed by my creations. The place is certainly full of traps. Trigger crystals, mines. I don't have the knowledge of mechanics needed to disarm them. Alarms go off. Something explodes in my face. I cough at the smoke, but focus and quickly cast a healing spell.

"Lexen!" Kessel exclaims.

"I'm alright!" I say. "Damnit, the guards are going to come!"

"We'll hold the door!" Kessel says. "You search for those gloves."

The creations set up positions around the door to force the enemies to come in one at a time and pick them off as they try to get through. I bless them with a Mass Energize spell and get to work. Careful to try to stay out of line of sight from the door, I go to look through Goettsch's belongings. A dresser, a chest, an armoire. But there's nothing in here but ostentatious clothes and treasure. I scoop up the treasure into my bag of holding at least, or I won't hear the end of it from Kessel.

Then I go to check the next room over. Thwip! I narrowly avoid getting struck by a reaper thorn.

"Damn!" I cry. "Reaper turrets! Well, at least I figured out where Goettsch is probably keeping the stuff he _really_ wants to keep safe."

Carefully keeping out of sight of the turrets, I start blindly flicking spells in to approximately where they were. After several volleys, I hear the squeal of one turret dying, then the second one.

Feeling gratified by my bold victory over thorn-spitting fungus, I step into the inner chamber to look around. First, I snatch up the valuable reaper thorns from the remains of the turrets. I poke around, in the closet, in a chest of drawers, and then under the bed I find a small box. I pull it out to examine it more closely, and find it tightly sealed. This is no doubt what I'm looking for, though. There's noplace else the gloves could be that I haven't already looked. I'll deal with getting the thing open later. I shove it into my bag of holding and head back out into the main room.

The doorway is half blocked with the corpses of several cryodrayks and a dozen or so battle gammas, all charred and seared with acid. My creations have sustained a number of injuries themselves, so I channel some healing magic at them to fix them up again. The creations outside are clawing their way past the bodies of their fallen comrades trying to get at us.

"Goettsch had to have heard that," I say. "It's a wonder he isn't here yet."

I'd planned to kill Goettsch in the first place, but the situation is less than ideal. I'm not sure how long we can hold this position, although we've been doing well enough so far.

"You keep an eye out for him," Kessel says. "His creations are too dumb to be any real threat to us. They might be more powerful, but they're falling all over one another and making themselves a target in this bottleneck. Raw power isn't everything."

Finally, after killing a number of additional creations, the cryodrayks and battle gammas stop coming.

"Did that idiot Shaper finally wise up and stop throwing away creations at us?" Kessel says. "Or is he foolish enough to think that we must already be dead?"

"Knowing our luck, he's probably waiting for us out in the open back in the central chamber, or near the exit."

"Hmm," says Kessel. "I don't fancy fighting him out in the open. We must be cautious."

"I'd rather not leave here without killing him," I say. "He's too dangerous. But he's probably got several creations still protecting him."

Kessel chuckles. "We could just set up camp here and force him to come to us if he wants his bedroom back."

"And just hope he doesn't try to break our ranks with exploding roamers?"

"Point," Kessel says. "Do you think him likely to try that?"

"Actually, I kind of doubt it," I say. "He's too arrogant, and that'd require admitting he can't handle us conventionally."

"He should expect that we would try to make an immediate escape."

We decide to stay and fortify Goettsch's chambers and lay in wait for him to return, opting not to try to face his creations in straight combat out in the open. I wish I knew how to create turrets, even just the basic sort, although it would be hilarious to be able to turn the tables on Goettsch by growing reaper turrets of my own. As it is, we just shift the corpses around to provide a bit of morbid cover, and wait.

After about half an hour or so, Goettsch finally deigns to come see what's taking his creations so long in killing me. His force consists of three cryodrayks and four battle gammas. It's much to my relief that he did not think to shape pyroroamers.

"So, you were working for Trajkov all along?" Goettsch says. "You've made a grave mistake, young Shaper."

"Have I?" I say. "Even if you kill me here, you'll be hard pressed to build up your army again before Trajkov's forces sweep in to destroy you. That would still be a victory for my side."

"You lie," Goettsch says. "You only got through my outer defenses because I allowed you in. The Sholai will never penetrate this far into my domain. I will rebuild my army and take them out myself if I must."

"Are you certain of that?" I say. "They could be waiting outside right now, ready to storm in now that they know your forces are weakened and you're distracted with having to face me."

"What!?" Shaper Goettsch buys my bluff, and for a moment his attention is directed elsewhere to make sure that no Sholai are about to come charging in at the worst possible moment for him.

I take advantage of his distraction to cast a quick spell to energize my forces, and direct my creations to attack him all out. As they're doing that, I cast another spell to hammer at the minds of Goettsch's creations. The battle gammas all stand around in a daze from my mental attack, although two of the cryodrayks managed to resist it.

Goettsch is struck by fire and acid, and he screams in pain and rage. He failed to realize that the entire time I was talking, I was lining up my creations for a clear shot at him through my makeshift fortifications.

The cryodrayks aren't as complacent as Goettsch. The two of them that are still active shoot blasts of their icy breath at me and my creations, but they only strike the frigid corpses of their fallen kindred.

Goettsch swears aloud and tries to rouse his creations out of their daze, to no avail. It appears that my willpower and grasp of mental magic is superior to his, at least with my canister-augmented body. But he's too slow to stop my magically hastened creations from searing him into the ground.

"Drayks!" Kessel says. "Your master is dead! You are free now!"

Unfortunately, Goettsch hadn't shaped his drayks with enough mind to care, or even to probably understand what Kessel is trying to tell them. They continue to attack blindly. With Goettsch dead, I try to exert my will over his creations, and manage to gain control over three of the battle gammas. The cryodrayks might not have anything in their heads, but they're still too strong and willful to fall under my domination.

A nasty battle ensues that leaves one of my roamers dead from a cryodrayk blast, and neither of the battle gammas that I'd gained control over survives against the rogue creations, but in the end we're victorious.

Kessel breathes a smokey sigh of relief, and I use the last of my essence to heal the wounds of the survivors. "So many drayks created just to be thrown away. Why did those last three keep fighting? Goettsch was dead!"

"Goettsch made them without anything in their heads, it seems like," I say. "When he died, they just went mad at not having anything to control them, and I couldn't even get through to them at that point."

"He was mad with power, to the point where I doubt even the Shaper Council would appreciate it. But were his abuses typical for the Shapers? Is that how they always treat their creations?"

"I'm afraid so, my friend."

"I can see why the Takers want them to pay for their crimes," Kessel says.

I go over to search Goettsch's charred corpse to see if he's carrying anything interesting that wasn't destroyed by my creations' attacks. He has a decent magical belt that's still intact, at least, so I remove that from him and put it on.

Now that there doesn't appear to be anything else trying to kill us at the moment, I stop and take out the box I had retrieved from under Goettsch's bed. It's tightly locked and sealed, but I have plenty of living tools that I've collected. I needed to take an opportunity to rest after a battle like that, anyway.

After almost an hour of fiddling with it, I finally get the box open. Inside are a pair of old shaping gloves, looking much like the replica that Goettsch had given me to try to trick Trajkov with.

"If Goettsch weren't so arrogant, I might suspect him of planting a second replica in such a well-guarded location and hidden the real ones somewhere else entirely. But I doubt he would stoop to thinking that anyone could break into his chambers like that."

"You would plan for something like that?" Kessel says.

"I might," I say. "Having contingencies is never a bad thing, right?"

"You know, I would fear for the world should you ever decide to become an evil overlord yourself."

"The world might be better off for it, but I have no desire to rule over anything," I say. "I'll just help Trajkov become an evil overlord, instead." I tuck the shaping gloves safely away in my bag of holding. "Now that the defenders have been cleared out, let's thoroughly engage in some gratuitous looting, shall we?"


	8. Together

I return to the Geneforge complex with the shaping gloves firmly in hand. Kessel, not caring to join another conversation that he can't follow, goes off to chat with Akkat again.

"Ah, Lexen, you have returned," Trajkov says.

"Good to see you again, Trajkov. I bring good news. Goettsch is dead. I found this pair of shaping gloves in his chambers. You'd best check to make sure they're the correct ones and they haven't been damaged or anything. He had made up a clever replica in hopes of tricking you into killing yourself with the Geneforge."

"Thank you for the warning," Trajkov says. He takes the gloves from me and examines them closely, then gives a nod of approval. "These should be the correct ones."

"That's good," I say. "I didn't think he was clever enough to keep a second replica so well protected, but perhaps I'm just overly paranoid."

"I would like you to be present when I use the Geneforge."

"I would be honored," I say.

Trajkov leads the way into the Geneforge chamber. All the necessary preparations have been made, and he's ready to do this. I can still detect a faint hint of nervousness in his manner, although he hides his apprehension well.

I'm a little nervous as well. If something goes terribly wrong here, I might just have to watch him die in front of me. Worse, if the Geneforge transforms him into a creature blind with madness, I may end up having to kill him myself, provided he doesn't kill me first.

The Geneforge is a faintly glowing green pool of strange essence in a stone basin on the floor. It has a strange scent to the air around it, and it almost seems to pull at my mind like a canister, offering incredible power if I just go over and touch it. I ignore the thought. I'm not that weak.

Trajkov pulls the special shaping gloves onto his hands, carefully adjusting them to make sure that they fit properly. I stand by to the side, watching him closely, practically holding my breath in unease and anticipation.

Trajkov kneels by the stone basin and reaches out his gloved hands to gently skim the surface of the essence pool. His body jerks in pain and he gasps and cries out. My eyes widen in alarm for a moment, but he's still in control. He's still carefully maintaining a light touch on the surface of the pool. It's just that the process seems to be incredibly painful.

The Geneforge changes him, little by little, rewriting him into something greater. I doubt that most people would be able to withstand such a process, and I have to admire the fact that he manages to retain consciousness throughout it.

And then, after several long minutes, it is done. Trajkov removes his hands from the pool and remains kneeling for a little longer, panting softly, but he seems different now."

Trajkov stands and looks over at me. His eyes are glowing red. He radiates an aura of sheer power that's even visible.

And yet, I can tell that he's still in control of himself. Despite the awesome power that he has gained, Trajkov has managed to retain his humanity. He smiles at me. And I almost feel like I should worship him like a god on earth.

"Now we can begin our great work," Trajkov says.

He gestures to me to follow, and we return to the central chamber again.

"It's strange," Trajkov says. "You did not ask for anything in return for aiding me. You simply offered up everything you had without question once you knew what my objectives were."

I chuckle. "I've found that doing something worthwhile is its own reward, regardless of the cost."

"Still, I would not see you go unrewarded. You will be my second-in-command, and have whatever wealth and power you might desire at your fingertips. Anything short of the Geneforge is yours should you ask for it. Tell me, Lexen. What most interests you?"

I stare at him for a long moment, looking into his hypnotic red eyes. I could ask for all the arcane knowledge in the world at this point, and that would be the practical answer, but it would not be the truth. I must answer an honest question honestly. "You do."

"What?"

"You are what most interests me, Trajkov."

Trajkov is quite clearly at a loss for words and continue to stare at me in puzzlement. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Clarify?"

I find myself flushing in embarrassment, and look away. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to impose. I expect nothing, but allow me to continue to serve you and I will be content."

"Then if you would seek to serve me, speak what's on your mind."

"Trajkov, I... I think I'm in love with you."

Trajkov stares at me, and there's another long, awkward silence. I'm such a fool. I shouldn't have said anything. I should have just kept my mouth shut and asked for magical knowledge, like would have been sensible. Now he'll probably send me away and take back his offers, out of disgust at me or something. Such a fool.

"I... see," Trajkov says. "I was not expecting that. I must admit that you managed to catch me off guard."

"I'm sorry. I should... go. I should just... go. I'll go."

I turn to start to walk away, but I don't get more than a couple steps before I'm stopped by firm hands around my waist.

"Stay," Trajkov says. "I offered you anything. And if that is what you truly wish, then that is what you shall receive."

"Trajkov... I..."

His hands take a good hold of me, and he forces me to turn around to look at him, putting a hand under my chin and looking at me with his piercing red eyes. "Tell me, is this what you want?"

"Trajkov... I would not ask of you anything you are not willing to give freely."

"Lexen, I'm the most powerful being in the world at this moment. There is nothing that I will do that is not done freely."

He chuckles softly in amusement, and his look softens to seeming to look at me almost fondly.

"And besides," he goes on. "I think... perhaps it would be for the best. Unexpected, but perhaps this would work out for the best, yes... I do not wish to lose myself or become a monster with no humanity. Perhaps you can be an anchor, a constant reminder of what I'm truly fighting for. But let me make this clear right now. If you should ever betray me or look at another person in the same way... I will destroy you. I will not have you offer to be my anchor and then attempt to destroy me through jealousy."

"I understand," I say. "I would not do such a thing."

"Good. Just so we're clear. Then you shall be mine." He holds me tightly and presses his lips against mine in a rough kiss.

This... this is my first kiss? I'm breathless. It's almost electrical. Actually, it is. I can feel the raw energy in his skin, tingling against my lips. After several lingering moments, he pulls away and looks at me. Grinning. Happily.

"Surprised?" Trajkov says in amusement.

"Yes... I didn't expect..."

"Relax," Trajkov says. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He pulls me close, and I bury my face into his chest. He's taller than me, but then he's also older than me. I still have a few years to grow. He smells of essence, and I find myself trembling a little. I could cry, I'm so shocked and happy.

"I've never met anyone like you before, Lexen. But I'm quite glad to have found you."

"I was afraid... I didn't know how you might react. There've been those who take poorly to the suggestion of... two men being together."

"You took a risk, but you were true to yourself, and I can respect that. If I'd thought there had been any sort of deceit or attempt at manipulation, that would be different. But you've been nothing but honest with me. I don't even think you're just attracted to me for my power, for that matter."

"No, that's not it," I say. "I admire your strength and wit, not your power. Although... I do think you're beautiful. And intoxicating."

Trajkov chuckles softly. "I was going to ask you to return to the Shaper lands alone and let them know that I'm coming. But I don't think I'll do that, now. I would rather not let you out of my sight, I think."

"I'm glad of that," I say. "I would rather not have to leave your sight."

* * *

Trajkov says, "Before we leave for the mainland, let's take a tour of the island and make certain that there is nothing of use that we've missed, and that everything is in order here. I intend to bring along whatever serviles will fight for us as well."

"Good plan."

The Sholai are hard at work constructing new seafaring vessels to take us away from here. Until they're finished, we have a bit of time to kill, so to speak.

First off, we stop by Akkat's lair to collect Kessel. "Hey, Kessel. We're going to go wander around the island, probably kill some things, and collect some loot. You in?"

"Ooh!" Kessel says. "Absolutely!"

"Have fun out there." Akkat chuckles softly and goes to curl up and sleep as we're heading out.

The first stop on our tour of Sucia Island is the village of Kazg. The Takers seem a little surprised to see us, and are very nearly in awe of Trajkov. I'm a little gratified that at last, someone else is getting more attention than me. I don't really like being the center of attention if I can help it.

"You'll have to translate for me, Lexen. Let's go speak with their leader."

We go in to the town hall and come before Gnorrel. She grows wide-eyed when she sees Trajkov with me and the way he radiates raw power.

"Shaper return with Trajkov? What news? We fight Shapers now?"

"She wants to know if it's time to fight the Shapers," I translate.

"Soon," Trajkov says. "Tell her to get her people ready. We will be setting sail for the mainland shortly, and then we shall bring the fight to the Shapers themselves."

I relay his words to Gnorrel, who seems gleeful at the prospect.

"Takers ready when time come," Gnorrel says. "We fight. We take our free!"

"Gnorrel, do you have any word of the towns to the west?" I ask. "What's been happening with the Awakened?"

"Awakened no more. They join Takers now."

Trajkov nods satisfactorily when I relay this to him. "It's good that we have both of the free servile sects on our side. We may yet have to fight the Obeyers, though."

"Gnorrel, have you heard anything of the Obeyers?"

"They grow restless," Gnorrel says. "Fight with Takers. They weak and they know it, but still trouble. They still worship Shapers. You plan to fight them?"

"We'll probably have to, yeah," I say. "I don't count on being able to make them see reason."

"Gnorrel is your name, servile? I am Kessel. I would like to join the Takers."

Gnorrel looks over to the drayk in surprise and blinks for a moment. "We not have any drayks in Takers yet. But we welcome any intelligent creation who wish free and fight Shapers."

"I haven't lived for very long, but I've lived long enough to see the abuses of the Shapers, and I am displeased. I saw the Shaper Goettsch create a small army of drayks who knew nothing but blind combat, and threw them all at us in a desperate attempt to slay us. I do not wish to see my kind being used in such a way."

"What's going on?" Trajkov asks.

"Kessel wanted to join the Takers," I explain. "Shall we leave them here to talk?"

"Ah," Trajkov says. "Yes, I'd like to see more of the town, and converse with some more of the serviles."

"Kessel, we're going to wander around the village for a bit. Shall we meet up again in the morning?"

"Yes, let's," Kessel says.

I wander around the village with Trajkov, speaking with the serviles, listening to their tales, and hearing of their plights. Then, as we're talking with one servile, I find myself slipping into their own patterns of speech without noticing it at first.

"Shaper talk like servile?" says one of them. "You mocking me."

"Sorry," I say. "Not mocking. I talk with serviles so much today I start talking like serviles."

The servile stares at me for a long moment, and then laughs aloud. "I think you do good to servile talk more! You not want to be Shaper? Then be free with Takers."

"What's so funny?" Trajkov asks.

"I inadvertently slipped into servile dialect without realizing it."

Trajkov chuckles softly in amusement, and I turn back to the servile.

"If serviles not mind, I not mind, either," I say. "I not want be like Shapers."

The servile is positively gleeful with delight at that. It quickly spreads around the village like wildfire, and I notice that, strangely, the serviles' opinion of me seems to have elevated. I'm not just a powerful ally that's useful but suspicious. I feel like I'm truly being accepted as one of them now.

"It seems strange that such a simple thing could cause such a dramatic change," Trajkov comments.

"I'm a little surprised at it myself," I say. "Maybe they're just surprised that a Shaper would bring himself down to their level."

"Or maybe they think that by talking like them, you're including yourself in their group."

"Trajkov..."

"Yes, my dear?"

"When this is all over, I'd like to visit your homeland."

"Certainly. And I'd like to visit yours."

I chuckle softly, and give a crooked grin at that thought. "Of course. But yours first. Mine will be... interesting."

"Oh?"

"It's a bit complicated," I say. "But let's just say that I'm not sure whether we'd even be attacked right away."

"That sounds like there's a story there."

"I'll tell you everything," I say. "Actually, the truth is one of my best kept secrets. But to you... all my secrets are yours. It'll be a long story, so let's save it for the trip to Vakkiri, shall we?"

"Alright."

I stop in to see how Ting is doing, and she's much better.

"You go to Vakkiri next?" Ting says. "I go with you. You save me, I want travel with you now."

"You welcome to come," I say. "We welcome your company. How your leg? It better?"

"Much better now. Thank you. Strange to hear you talk servile... strange to talk servile again, after spy on Awakened so long."

"Trajkov, this is Ting. She was wounded in a battle with some Awakened fanatics, but she's recovered now and wants to travel with us for a bit."

"That's fine with me," Trajkov says. "I'm sure Kessel wouldn't mind someone else to talk to."

"Ting, this is Trajkov."

"Trajkov!" Ting exclaims. "I glad meet. Lexen, you tell him how you save me? How you hero to serviles? No? You too modest! Tell him! Tell him all!"

"Trajkov, Ting's insisting that I tell you about how I carried her halfway across the island when she was wounded and couldn't walk, and thinks I'm a hero to serviles, and that I'm too modest."

Trajkov laughs aloud at my commentary. "Well, you are, at times. You prefer to let your deeds speak for themselves. That's not necessarily a bad thing."

The next morning, we head out of Kazg and make our way toward Vakkiri.

"So, you promised you'd tell me all about where you're from," Trajkov says.

"Well, I told you I'm from far away... technically, I'm actually originally from another world. I came here years ago by use of a powerful magical teleportation device called a Nexus, that allows traveling to different worlds."

"I can see why you aren't eager to share that little bit of information," Trajkov says.

"You are, in fact, the first person I've ever told about it," I say.

"I'd never considered the idea of other worlds," Trajkov says. "So why did you come here, then?"

"To study magic, primarily," I say. "That's why I wriggled my way into the Shapers. That sort of magic is completely alien to my people, and I hoped to gain an advantage over my enemies with it so that I might retake Torn Elkandu, the city where the Nexus resides. It was taken over by a rival group of mages shortly after I escaped."

"You said you were just a child at the time, weren't you," Trajkov says.

"Yeah," I say. "Maybe ten or eleven years old. I'm not sure exactly how old I am."

"So all this time, you've been working toward the hope of being able to strike back at these rival mages?"

"More or less," I say. "It's a bit more complicated than that. Which... brings me to my greatest secret."

"You have a secret greater than something so big as being from another world?" Trajkov says, raising an eyebrow.

I chuckle. "Yes, yes I do. That one's small time compared to this. I might tell someone else about the other-worlds thing. But this... Not this. I'll only tell you this because I trust you completely, and maybe you can make use of my unique abilities if the need is great enough."

I'm nervous, and hesitant, even now. But I take a deep breath and prepare to spill my greatest secret. Trajkov watches me intently with great interest and curiosity.

"I don't die like normal people," I say.

"What?" Trajkov says. "How do you mean?"

"When I die, I go... somewhere else, and from there I can return to any point before my death. Any point in time that I have already experienced. I can return to that moment and make a different choice, to go down another path that may not lead to my death this time around."

It appears that Ting is having some trouble with the extended walking after her injury.

"Oh, come here, little servile," Kessel says. "You can ride on my back."

"Thank you!" Ting says. "My leg still little hurt."

Trajkov stares at me for a long moment, and I can see thoughts working through his expression and eyes as the implications of that sink in. "So you can, in a way, change the future, at least from your perspective?"

"Exactly."

"You're right, I can see why you wouldn't want to tell anyone else that, and I'm even surprised that you told me, even with what's between us."

"I'm not going to keep secrets from you, Trajkov. Not even about that."

"So, when you go back, you just take your own memories, I take it?" Trajkov says. "Nothing else?"

"That's right," I say. "All I can really do is use it to gather information. But information can be extremely valuable. That's why I've been seeking magical knowledge."

"And _that_ is why you weren't interested in the Geneforge!" Trajkov exclaims. "It all makes sense now!"

"Exactly!" I say. "The canisters, the Geneforge, they're all wonderful things and all, but they don't really help me at all, in the long run. Only my mind remains. Anything that's done to my body won't carry over into the past."

"I'm guessing that you're intending on using the power you gain to prevent your city from ever being taken over in the past as a child, once you're done, am I right?"

"That was the plan," I say. "It was the best plan I could come up with."

"It's not a bad one," Trajkov says. "But you seem to have strayed a bit from the plan of gaining knowledge."

"Yeah. I just can't ignore things like what I've seen on this world. But I consider it worthwhile, nonetheless. If I've improved the lot of even one timeline, then I've done something good, right? And perhaps I might learn a thing or two along the way, as well."

"We could go back to your world first," Trajkov suggests. "We could oust these mages who would hurt you."

"It's already been years," I say. "I don't know if they're even still there, if another faction has taken over instead, or what."

"Tell me about the Nexus," Trajkov says. "Where can it go? How many people can it send through?"

"It can take you to anyplace that it's calibrated to, which requires a person being present who has been to that place and can focus upon it. And... it could probably send an army through, if that's what you're thinking. They'd have to go in groups of like twenty or thirty at once, but it only takes a minute to send a group through."

Trajkov looks thoughtful, and gives a nod, and stops walking, gesturing to the creations that we're stopping for now.

"What happen?" Ting says. "We take break?"

"Lexen, about how powerful are these mages you've spoken of?" Trajkov asks.

"They're powerful, but I could probably match some of their best one-on-one now," I say. "You... would probably wipe the floor with them."

"Let's go," Trajkov says. "Let's take control of the Nexus."


	9. Liberty and Justice

"Alright." I gesture the creations close and explain what's going on to them. "I teleport us someplace else. There might be big fight. Be ready."

I pull out a reaper baton that I'd saved and hand it over to Ting. She takes the deadly weapon almost reverently, and gives a nod, not entirely understanding.

"We take over Nexus from bad mages," I explain. "It let us go right to Shaper land. It let us go anywhere we want. Ready?"

"Change of plans?" Kessel says. "I'm up for a fight. Let's do it."

I gather my roamers around in a circle facing outward, and we take up positions, poised to attack in an instant. It's been a long time since I've cast the Word of Recall spell to return to the Nexus. I have to focus intently upon my companions to make sure no one gets left behind. Then, the mists envelop us, and our surroundings vanish.

Moments later, what had been Sucia Island is replaced by the sight of Torn Elkandu. The glowing, runed obelisks of the Nexus. The swirling purple sky arching overhead.

"I know you," Sedder says. "Lexen _Chelseer_."

" _Sedder._ "

"Someone you know?" Trajkov says.

" _KILL,_ " I bark. _Mass Energize_. I'm not a helpless bratling. Not now. Never again. Fire and acid rain down upon Sedder before he can even react.

"You," Sedder says. " _You._ How did-- Where did--... Gah. Die!"

Shields go up around the Nexus. Sedder. Alarmed. Panicking. In an instant, we're surrounded by a small army of shadowy figures. Humanoid, but made of pure darkness, with no real substance.

"Illusions, Sedder?"

"My illusions can still kill you!"

For all their lack of substance, they certainly seem solid, as they slash at us with ethereal blades.

"No they can't," Trajkov says.

He focuses his will for a moment, and suddenly all the illusions shatter, wisping into the shadows from whence they came.

"How!?" Sedder cries. "That's impossible!"

"I take it you have a history with my dear friend Lexen," Trajkov says. "Sedder, he called you?"

"His entire family are a plague upon the multiverse!"

"And your threat ends now," Trajkov says. "You won't hurt Lexen, or anyone else, ever again."

"I'm the greatest of the Elkandu!" Sedder proclaims. "You're no match for me!"

Trajkov raises a hand, and a killing spell flies forth from his fingertips and strikes Sedder square in the chest.

"You... no... I can't... die like this..."

Sedder collapses, shuddering and coughing up blood.

"You just did," Trajkov says.

But Sedder isn't to be ended quite so easily. At that moment, what appears to be a demon sweeps in and casts a dark spell over him, healing him and bringing him to his feet again.

"You got here just in time, Suzcecoz," Sedder says.

"Your backup is here, Lord Sedder," the demon addressed as Suzcecoz says.

A small army of mages, demons, and the undead gathers around us. We fight like the raging heavens, like rolling thunder, bringing down our enemies all around us. All around us, they're falling like blood-red autumn leaves. And Sedder dies again to an acid spell in the face.

"I surrender," Suzcecoz says. "You have... such power. Who are you?"

"I am Trajkov. And I'd rather not deal with demons, if it's all the same to you."

"I'm not... exactly a demon."

"No? You could have fooled me, then," Trajkov says.

"I'm just... um... possessed."

"Because that makes everything so much better."

"I don't know who you are, but weren't you calling Sedder 'Lord' just a few minutes ago?" I say.

"He's ruled this place for the last several years..." Suzcecoz says.

"And what happened to the Elkandu?" I ask. "Where are Keolah and Hawthorne in the midst of all this?"

"Sedder had them exiled."

"Exiled?" I say. "Awfully generous of him. And how many have wound up dead because of him?"

"I don't know," Suzcecoz says. "But he's dead, and Torn Elkandu has a new master now."

"Begone, demon, before I change my mind and decide to kill you," Trajkov says. "I don't want to see you around here again. Or any other demons, for that matter."

"Yes, of course. I'll be going now." She steps into the Nexus and vanishes into the mists."

"So, now that we're not fighting for our lives... why does it sound like everyone is speaking the Sholai tongue?" Trajkov asks.

"They are not," Ting says. "Everyone is talking servile!"

"There's a universal translation spell over the Nexus," I explain. "Everything that's said in Torn Elkandu will sound to everyone like their native tongue."

"That would be a very useful spell to have," Trajkov says. "I want it."

"So what is this place?" Kessel asks. "The sky looks weird."

"This is Torn Elkandu," I say. "It's... a pocket realm, you might say. A world that exists outside of the normal worlds. The Nexus here can take people almost anywhere in existence, provided they can focus an image in their mind of where they're going."

"Is there anyone else here, I wonder, or did we drive them all off?" Trajkov asks.

"I don't know, but... guh, I can feel the Nexus destabilizing. Let me get a hold on it. One moment."

I focus on the Nexus, concentrating on the powerful energies flowing through it, and trying to bring them into harmony again. I'm not trained in this, and I don't really know what I'm doing, but my heavily shaped body takes to the task instinctively. The Nexus hums contentedly again.

"It's a very powerful and very unstable magical device," I say. "Someone needs to be watching over it at all times or the energies will destabilize. This is, needless to say, a bad thing."

"We'll need to bring mages here to keep it stable, then," Trajkov says.

"Yeah..." I say. "Here, let me teach you how to use it."

I describe the methods used to activate the Nexus to go to a destination, and to cast the Word of Recall spell to return to it again. Thankfully, the Nexus was designed to be easy to use, so that anyone who has used it will have an inherent connection to it, making it easy to go to and from the Nexus.

"Alright," Trajkov says. "I'll go back by myself to Sucia Island. If I'm not back shortly, you'll need to send someone else through."

"I'll keep an eye on things while you're gone."

Trajkov vanishes into the Nexus, leaving me alone with the creations for the moment.

"So, do you think anyone else is here?" Ting says. "I'm nervous."

"I don't know," I say. "Feel free to explore Torn Elkandu if you like, but be careful. I don't know who or what might be here."

"Well, let's take a look around," Kessel says. "I'll protect you, little servile."

They wander off to poke around, leaving me alone to keep the Nexus stable.

And then Hawthorne and Keolah appear in the Nexus.

"News travels fast, apparently," I comment.

"Yeah, Suzy told us about what happened," Keolah says.

"Let me be the first to congratulate you on kicking that punk's ass," Hawthorne says, coming over and slapping me on the back so hard I gasp for breath."

"Well... I did have help," I say.

"So did he," Hawthorne says. "Credit where credit is due."

"So where have you been, Lexen?" Keolah asks. "You've been missing for years. We thought you were killed in the attack."

"I wasn't actually here for the attack," I say. "I'd gone out to another world before they even got here."

"Fortuitous timing to go on an exploration," Keolah says.

"Yeah..." I say.

"Sounds good," Hawthorne says. "So, did you find any cute girls out there?"

"Well, no..."

"Okay, did you find any handsome boys, then?" Hawthorne asks. I cough lightly. "Aha, you _did_ didn't you."

At that moment, Trajkov in the Nexus, with a dozen augmented Sholai mages in tow.

"Oh, hello there," Keolah says. "Welcome to Torn Elkandu. I am Keolah the Seeker, at your service."

Trajkov looks at Keolah and Hawthorne, and then back at me. "Who are these people?"

"Trajkov, this is my cousin, Keolah Kedaire, and my grandmother, Hawthorne Chelseer. Ladies, I'd like you to meet Trajkov."

"Ah, so is he the lucky man, then?" Hawthorne says.

"What have you been telling them, Lexen?"

"I hardly had a chance to say much of anything, to be honest."

Trajkov chuckles softly. "Well, then. Yes, Lexen is, indeed, the love of my life. And if anyone has a problem with that, I can shoot acid from my fingertips." He glances around, but the Sholai pointedly say absolutely nothing.

"Wonderful!" Hawthorne says. "So, are you the most powerful person from your world?"

"Er... I believe so, yes..." Trajkov says.

"An excellent choice, Lexen. You've done well for yourself. Now to just research male pregnancy spells..."

" _HAWTHORNE!_ " I cry.

"What?" Hawthorne says innocently.

"No. Just NO!" I say firmly.

"Well, what's the point, then?" Hawthorne says. "I suppose we could hook him up with Helga or Hilda instead, then..."

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I say.

"What?" Hawthorne says. "Your father was the most powerful person in _his_ universe, as was your grandfather, and your great-grandfather."

"Lexen, you didn't tell me your family was so... interesting," Trajkov says.

"They surprise me myself, at times."

"Oh, come on," Hawthorne says. "What's the point of breeding for power if you're not going to breed?"

"I am not _livestock_ , Hawthorne!"

"Leave the young man alone, Hawthorne," Trajkov says. "No means no." His red eyes flash dangerously as he fixes his gaze on her.

Hawthorne sighs exasperatedly. "Fine, fine."

"We could just turn them into hermaphrodites instead," Keolah suggests.

"I SAID NO!" I shriek.

"But just think!" Keolah says. "It's the best of both worlds!"

"WHAT iS WRONG WITH BOTH OF YOU?" I scream.

Trajkov steps between me and my relatives, his aura crackling with red energy. "Back off. Now."

"It was just a suggestion," Keolah says. "No need to get uptight about it. Well, I suppose with Sedder finally out of the way, we can come back and set up shop in Torn Elkandu again."

"I'm taking over Torn Elkandu now," Trajkov says.

"Well, if your policies are more agreeable than Sedder's, I'm sure there are a number of mages who would be happy to return and offer their services, regardless," Keolah says.

"What would you consider to be 'more agreeable?'" Trajkov asks.

"Not torturing children and consorting with demons, for starters," Hawthorne says. "Enslaving people's souls was bad, too."

"In that case, we may be able to get along," Trajkov says. "So long as I never, ever hear the words 'male pregnancy' again."

"Gotcha," Hawthorne says.

"I'll head off to go collect everyone, then," Keolah says.

"I'll... go help," Hawthorne says.

The two of them disappear through the Nexus again, leaving me to breathe a heavy sigh of relief when they're gone.

"I think that encounter was even more unpleasant than the battle with Sedder," Trajkov says.

"Agreed."

Trajkov gives a hard look to the Sholai mages who came with him. "None of you will utter a word of this. Understood?"

They all quickly nod uneasily and murmur in the affirmative.

We teach them all about using the Nexus, and then send them off to start bringing Sholai here, in batches as large as they can manage at one time. Once they're done with that, they'll start bringing in serviles. It's very likely that when the sun rises the next morning, the Obeyers will find themselves alone on Sucia Island, wondering where everyone else has gone all of a sudden.

In the midst of that, Elkandu start trickling in, one by one. By this point, Ting and Kessel have arrived to watch the procession of incoming people. Calto appears in the Nexus. I'm glad to see that he survived the attack.

"Is that a servile?" Ting asks. "Looks a little strange for a servile."

"That's a gnome, Ting," I say.

Calto approaches Ting and smiles at her broadly. "Hello! It's good to see another gnome here."

"That's a servile, Calto," I say.

"Well, she looks like a gnome to me, although of a different race of gnome, perhaps."

"Gnome?" Ting says. "What a funny word. Maybe my people were 'gnomes' once, before we became serviles. I don't know."

Torn Elkandu quickly becomes much more crowded than it was before, but it doesn't really seem like it at all. It's almost as though it realizes that there are more people here, and expands to be able to support them.

My cousins, Helga and Hilda, arrive also. They're a lot older than I remember them, but then they were a few years younger than me, and I've kind of been gone for a while. Hilda even makes a translation amulet for Trajkov, who takes it gratefully and thanks her profusely.

"If we can hold this place, it will make for an excellent position to strike from," Trajkov says. "I would be uneasy about setting up a headquarters here, however, given the ease of getting in."

"True," I say. "We might want to set up a more secure location as a headquarters, and include a one-way portal to Torn Elkandu, perhaps."

Trajkov chuckles. "The Shapers won't know what hit them. But just think... with the power of the Nexus, we could fight injustice all across the multiverse."

I find myself grinning broadly. I can't help it. Even with all the power the Geneforge gave him, he still thinks of nothing for himself. Nothing... except me. And I think I like it that way.

"Now you're talking," I say. "It sounds like a dream."

He takes me aside to speak with me in private. "Now that I know about your... circumstances... I think I could go on fighting for what I believe in and not lose control of myself if anything should happen to you. Not to encourage you to go commit suicide or anything, of course, but knowing that you won't really be dead is something of a relief to me."

"I'm not going to be careless or try to get myself killed while I'm still with you, Trajkov."

"I know," Trajkov says. "And I know you may someday wind up in another time, another place, another world... You might even wind up with another man. I understand -- I'd rather not think about it or know about it if it should happen or has happened."

I chuckle. "I don't know how anyone else could ever compare to you, Trajkov, but I get what you're saying, I think."

"But no matter where or when you end up, I want you to hold true to yourself, no matter what. Never be afraid to fight for what you believe in, no matter the circumstances you might find yourself in. Dreams really can be achieved, and the impossible can be made possible."

"I will," I say. "I promise."

Trajkov gives a smile at me. He seems to realize that I never give a promise unless I really mean it. "And if you should ever meet up with me again, if you ever need to convince me of anything, I'm going to tell you some things that only I would know, in order to prove that you speak truly. I'll leave it to your discretion how you use them and what you actually tell me, because I trust you."

"Thank you," I say. "I'm grateful for your trust in me."

Trajkov tells me a number of interesting details about his childhood and youth, not merely just events or incidents, but also what he was thinking at the time. Others might know what happened, but they would not know his thoughts. "Think you can remember all that?"

"Yeah," I say. "At least the Shapers were good for one thing. They taught me how to remember things quite well."

"Good," Trajkov says. "There are still preparations to make before the invasion, but everyone needs to get here first. Let's take the moment we have to relax a bit first, shall we?"

I grin softly, and nod in agreement.

* * *

The Shapers never know what hits them. With the power of the Nexus, augmented Sholai mages are able to take strike teams in and attack, then vanish before anyone can really respond.

We're limited to sending people to places that one of us has actually seen. That doesn't start out as a very large number of places. But we have help. We have a Seeker.

Keolah spends her time scrying the Shaper lands and pinpointing good targets for our forces to strike at. Trajkov makes damned sure that she makes up for the torment she and Hawthorne put me through when they arrived back here.

The members of the Shaper Council are all killed simultaneously in a well-coordinated attack.

"There's no need for a remote headquarters, by the way," Keolah says. "A skilled mage can identify incoming travelers attempting to recall into the Nexus and reject them or send them to a secure location if need be. The main danger is betrayal from those you thought were on your side."

"Sedder had been exiled," I point out. "He wasn't even allowed to be in Torn Elkandu. How did he even get in?"

"Because Calto is, frankly, not a very skilled mage. We got lazy and complacent, and we paid the price for it."

"Well, I'm not going to make the same mistake," Trajkov says. "The Nexus will be monitored closely at all times, even if that means _you_ have to do the job all the time."

"Understood," Keolah says.

At the end of our bloody, brutal campaign, Shaper society has collapsed. We send off most of the serviles and Sholai who were stayed in Torn Elkandu to help rebuild things in the Shaper lands.

Trajkov, however, has no interest in actually ruling the place. After giving a few well-placed passionate speeches to people, and showing them the direction to take, he returns to Torn Elkandu with me, leaving people to follow their new path on their own, or to find a new way to destroy themselves.

"So," Trajkov says. "It's done. I wasn't sure if I would actually live to see the day..."

"Still, I'm glad you did," I say. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Trajkov chuckles softly and ruffles my hair. "The same thing you always do. You follow your heart and do what you believe in. And to be honest, I couldn't have done all this without you. The Geneforge gave me the power to make it happen, and the Nexus allowed a swift resolution that was a lot less bloody than it could have been."

"So now that it's all done... what do we do now?"

"Take a well-deserved vacation," Trajkov says. "And then? Perhaps we'll do it all again in another world."

"What, have Keolah scan the multiverse for tyrants and go beat the crap out of them?"

"I doubt it'll be that simple," Trajkov says. "I wouldn't want to make any unfortunate assumptions. They lead to mistakes that can't be taken back. No, she might point us in the right direction, but we'd need to go and learn the truth of a situation before taking any drastic action."

"Sounds like a plan," I say.

Trajkov chuckles. "Traveling the universe, righting wrongs, bringing hope to the hopeless and laying low evil? Sounds like something out of a fairy tale."

"Indeed," I say. "But if anyone can make it happen, I think we can."


End file.
